Learning to accept betrayal - caused by family - has been a war inside of me for several years, and I have to step away and look at the root of the problem.
Recently I posted on standing down...accepting my place in this situation, and even praising the fact that I am only a fixture in some of their lives. This is ok...the problem is, when I am waking up bruised and tattered, nervous as an old wet hen, unable to rest peacefully, I am unable to shake it.
Several things were brought to my attention early in the week, concerning relationships. It would be nice if I were able to tackle the problem head-on, and put each in their place, but I have never learned to be the aggressor. I guess you aren't the aggressor when you have to self-preserve, once you've been wronged, but it feels like it. More so because so much is done behind my back and at the time I am unable to defend myself.
I promised everyone I would be HONEST. I think most conflicts in the past were caused in large part by dishonesty, therefore, I feel that I am safest by keeping quiet.
Today I was not quiet. My line in the sand was crossed for the millionth time and I let it be known, the "Don't ever call me again" threats would no longer be mere threats, but that it would no longer be necessary to lose sleep over the fact that I would call again. I had not called even at this point.
I have not learned yet, and I am still a pup as far as dealing with death - betrayal - injustices, and some day maybe I'll pull it together and be allowed to concentrate on Shannon again...it just was not an option that was available to me.
So back to my journal I go - and these rambling thoughts may some day make sense, or at least help me remember this feeling - these circumstances, and I will grow from them.
And what happened to the days when families stuck together ?
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