Kicking the Habit
Had a great talk with Dr. M tonight. I read him parts of the following post, and he suggested I keep it somewhere where I would read and be reminded of feeling this way. Worried it was fleeting (especially after the session) – I rang “my dealer” to see what would happen… would I feel hurt? Resolute? Angry? DESPERATE? I felt none of these, and Mr. B. Dealer made no attempts to sell (it’s a bit early anyway, according to the cycle) More importantly, I had no desire to buy. Awesome. Anyway, here goes:
Had to make a short blog after taking in the East-bound in-flight movie called “The Nanny Diaries.” The closing remark from the main character’s employer, a Park Avenue housewife, is very poignant. “It will be of little surprise to you that I left my husband,” she writes to her former nanny, “Any man who could make me desperate enough to feign a pregnancy is not a man worth fighting for.”
And, while I’ve never had to “feign a pregnancy” .. I could fill those quotations in with a dozen or so other acts of “desperation”… and it would still hold true. Any man who makes you DESPERATE is not a man worth fighting for, period.
Recently, I feel somewhat different about things, as though my head has broken open. The knowledge within, like blood, pumping backward and down through my veins into my heart, encouraging belief and acceptance of that parroted wisdom which had previously existed solely within the vacuum of my brain.
Each time, despite the initial trauma, it had gotten easier to turn away from damaging behaviors and the safety of the cycle I was already familiar with. It felt like a drug addiction… absorbing the high of love and acceptance when offered, followed by the desperate struggle to achieve that high again when it was abruptly withdrawn.
I used to think that B was the drug.. but I have slowly recognized that it was the intense, all-encompassing, finite and consequently limited LOVE which was the real drug, and this man only the dealer of a highly concentrated, yet fleeting emotion… each time re-supplying my addiction before my dependency could be broken, then pulling it abruptly away to watch me bargain everything.. my pride, my reality, my self esteem and finally the trust in my sense of self.
I consistently owed him the benefit of the doubt, despite history, reality and lack of reciprocation. There was so little reciprocation for any of his demands… and not working within the “reality” of his perception – or paradigm – meant punishment: the withdrawal of LOVE. He would try to convince me it still existed, and that he was still supplying me, but for some reason I just couldn’t “feel” it… there was just something wrong with ME.
This time really was different. Even while he was supplying I wasn’t accepting it all... I was apprehensive, guarded, circumspect. One day, a few weeks ago, I said “Yes, this feels good – but I think I need a little break in order to keep my mind on even keel and not get hurt when it dissipates.” … I knew it wasn’t real, wasn’t unconditional, unlimited or even stable… you simply can’t maintain a balanced and respectful partnership unless you are healthy and focused and secure…certainly not with the intensity he promised, and I already knew better.
This action triggered another punishing withdrawal, revealing his own insecurity by focusing on my action (taking a step back) as the “the first sin” which instigated and justified all of his behaviors that followed. I did contribute several of my own "misdeeds", I should add. I threw in a few “Fuck You’s” in response to sarcastic insults and belittlements indicating how worthless, unstable, dramatic and insignificant I and my feelings are (and for which, apologies have been demanded and refused on several occasions – no mention of the comments which the responses were formulated for. I refuse to lie or deny responsibility for my actions, and I consider my responses tame, controlled and appropriate in comparison to the hurtful insinuations they addressed.)
I could go into the rest of it, but with nothing to fight for, there’s little reason. I'm not angry right now.. just pragmatic.. and perhaps a little numb and wry... but Im just fine. I mean, I’m still an addict, I’m sure…. But I’m over it enough to know to stay away, and enough to not even want to give it the “old college try” again…. and that’s a healthy first in and of itself.
Had to make a short blog after taking in the East-bound in-flight movie called “The Nanny Diaries.” The closing remark from the main character’s employer, a Park Avenue housewife, is very poignant. “It will be of little surprise to you that I left my husband,” she writes to her former nanny, “Any man who could make me desperate enough to feign a pregnancy is not a man worth fighting for.”
And, while I’ve never had to “feign a pregnancy” .. I could fill those quotations in with a dozen or so other acts of “desperation”… and it would still hold true. Any man who makes you DESPERATE is not a man worth fighting for, period.
Recently, I feel somewhat different about things, as though my head has broken open. The knowledge within, like blood, pumping backward and down through my veins into my heart, encouraging belief and acceptance of that parroted wisdom which had previously existed solely within the vacuum of my brain.
Each time, despite the initial trauma, it had gotten easier to turn away from damaging behaviors and the safety of the cycle I was already familiar with. It felt like a drug addiction… absorbing the high of love and acceptance when offered, followed by the desperate struggle to achieve that high again when it was abruptly withdrawn.
I used to think that B was the drug.. but I have slowly recognized that it was the intense, all-encompassing, finite and consequently limited LOVE which was the real drug, and this man only the dealer of a highly concentrated, yet fleeting emotion… each time re-supplying my addiction before my dependency could be broken, then pulling it abruptly away to watch me bargain everything.. my pride, my reality, my self esteem and finally the trust in my sense of self.
I consistently owed him the benefit of the doubt, despite history, reality and lack of reciprocation. There was so little reciprocation for any of his demands… and not working within the “reality” of his perception – or paradigm – meant punishment: the withdrawal of LOVE. He would try to convince me it still existed, and that he was still supplying me, but for some reason I just couldn’t “feel” it… there was just something wrong with ME.
This time really was different. Even while he was supplying I wasn’t accepting it all... I was apprehensive, guarded, circumspect. One day, a few weeks ago, I said “Yes, this feels good – but I think I need a little break in order to keep my mind on even keel and not get hurt when it dissipates.” … I knew it wasn’t real, wasn’t unconditional, unlimited or even stable… you simply can’t maintain a balanced and respectful partnership unless you are healthy and focused and secure…certainly not with the intensity he promised, and I already knew better.
This action triggered another punishing withdrawal, revealing his own insecurity by focusing on my action (taking a step back) as the “the first sin” which instigated and justified all of his behaviors that followed. I did contribute several of my own "misdeeds", I should add. I threw in a few “Fuck You’s” in response to sarcastic insults and belittlements indicating how worthless, unstable, dramatic and insignificant I and my feelings are (and for which, apologies have been demanded and refused on several occasions – no mention of the comments which the responses were formulated for. I refuse to lie or deny responsibility for my actions, and I consider my responses tame, controlled and appropriate in comparison to the hurtful insinuations they addressed.)
I could go into the rest of it, but with nothing to fight for, there’s little reason. I'm not angry right now.. just pragmatic.. and perhaps a little numb and wry... but Im just fine. I mean, I’m still an addict, I’m sure…. But I’m over it enough to know to stay away, and enough to not even want to give it the “old college try” again…. and that’s a healthy first in and of itself.
posted by Psyche at 9:34 PM
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