codependence

My mind skips around like an old recorder
Scratches at each jump between
Times when I think I’ve settled on an answer
For what might seem a simple question
If it weren’t loaded

If I sleep with this keepsake tonight
Will holding it close to my chest
End up breaking it apart more later
Just like our first to last of five months in this home
Except boxes are, already, packed to leave
And one of two of us already left completely

I’m not sure what happpened to the you I got to see one last time
It was just four or five hours
But you were “back”,
You were “alive”
And you were kind
And I had missed you so
But that’s not why the tears streamed down my face
It was bc I knew the you that you’d replace
Would be the you that killed who you really were
And all we could have been
We wanted so much more
Than “could have beens”

I’m sorry I had to make the call
When just days before, you had kissed my face
But the Black Eyes returned within only days
And just like that,
The man I loved was replaced
With a punishing parent
From a patterned past
Don’t you know there’s a reason
Only Jesus should attempt to raise the dead

Black Eyes moved toward
And swiftly fell upon me
3 digits and a screen had to intervene
But they could only save me
And that night I felt the loss of death
There was nothing left in your eyes

May Jesus raise you up like Lazarus
May the One who is outside the bounds of
Space and Time and Death
Reunite us again
When we are ready

#BPD #Splitting #codependence #Loss #ComplicatedGrief

I was listening to a talk about forgiveness when it made me realized a part of the reason I struggle to forgive: In my family growing up, and in my first marriage, “forgiving” someone meant that we skipped over the part where the other person was accountable, nothing changed, and I would still have to endure conditions where I was disrespected and abused, where I had to tolerate poor behavior, where my boundaries didn’t matter. I had to extend to the wrongdoer privileges that should only be extended to trustworthy people.

I had to pretend and behave as though the person who wronged me was suddenly trustworthy again without them having done anything to be accountable or restore the broken trust. I had to pretend that our relationship was not in anyway changed or harmed by what they had done. I had to pretend I didn’t having any hurt feelings and that I didn’t need to heal. Imagine doing something to break someones arm or leg, or even just giving them a paper cut. The idea of telling them not to do anything to heal from that (get a cast, get a bandaid) is laughable.

The deepest lie that trauma tells us, is the most difficult to root out. It is this: “It’s not safe to be me. There’s no changing it. That’s just the way it is.”

This lie grows into feelings of powerlessness, resentment, anger and other lies that disguise our identities and keep us from truly loving and accepting ourselves; and keep us perpetuating the relationship patterns that act as though those lies are truth.

So, when I struggle to forgive, what I really am struggling with is the lies. I get angry, “I WANT HEALTHY BOUNDARIES DAMMIT! I AM A HUMAN BEING ON THIS PLANET DESERVING OF RESPECT AS MUCH AS ANYONE ELSE!!!”

I recently saw in a newsletter by author Danny Silk, that anger is false power. I would add that resentment is a false sense of power as well. I want to stop feeling powerless. The trauma is over, but the feeling of powerlessness often rears its ugly head, and then I have work to do. Work I wasn't planning on. 

Forgiving and restoring my sense of power are two separate things. And yet, lack of forgiveness can get in the way of restoring a sense of personal power.

That’s as far as I’ve gotten. Thanks for reading.