I don’t lose control gracefully.
I’m a control hog. I’m either leading the charge, yelling TALLY HO! on my trusty steed as I hold up my rapier, or I’m snorting in the back row of the classroom, eating peanuts and gleefully remaining apathetic. I have two speeds-on or off.
I blame a lot of things. I blame a childhood, filled with events I could not even pretend to control, that I couldn’t even have a daydream fantasy over. People in my life who left me 3 sheets to the wind so often that I never really discovered when my feet were solidly on the ground. And little old me, never trying to just find my way, instead coasting on hot air and will, the sheer force of will that has brought me through so much.
Now I face my dragon, full force. Often it seems like this is my last monster, the last door to open, the last window to clean off. Letting go.
I made an arsehole mistake with something-what it is is irelevant for right here, but trust me. I did something that goes against all of my personal values in a moment of weakness and ache and anger. And I regret it, something I so rarely do, but I admit it loudly, that I regret, and hate that I have made a mistake such as the one I’ve made. I’ve made someone look at me with hate and anger and pain, and it makes me want to crawl up inside myself and cry forgiveness. I want to be forgiven, knowing in my own head, how wrong, how hideous and gross I’ve been.
But I cannot pass those feelings on. I cannot erase what has been done, and I must lay in the bed I’ve made. I do deserve it. But coming to grips with that fact that I cannot control when someone forgives me, that I cannot make them find closure immediately-that’s what’s taking all my will. Learning to submit to the anger and disdain, learning to submit to the fact that perhaps I need to stew in what I’ve done, take full repentance. Learning to wait, without apathy, learning to say I value you in my life, I want you in it, without running the show.
Learning to let go, and let people come to me. Not chasing them for love, or friendship, but letting them find their way back out of anger, back to who I really am when not blinded by rage or sadness. Letting them lead.
I don’t do well. But I’m learning. I become completely irrational, seized by a need to make people love me.
I want to break this pattern, break myself of it. I can be loved, without forcing the hand before me. I can be treasured, and cared for, more even, if I let people come to me on their terms.
I want to be the person who can stand and wait, hopeful, yet not cutting off my nose to spite my face.
Hope. I want more of that.
(to add: I’m slowly coming to grips, clearly, with the fact that I’ve been behaving in a codependant manner for years, trying to control the people in my life, trying to make them happy, trying to fill the voids left in me. It’s been easier for me to never meet my own needs-something I’ve been told multiple times over the years that I’m only truly grasping now. And I’m lost. I struggle to make myself happy. I don’t want that anymore, but how do I break free?)