The fury of unworthiness

Later edit.

I feel like it is worth noting on some of the more popular of the more extreme entires that these are not the current feelings on the matter. For a more complete view, you may wish to consider the more current feelings in the balance.

End edit notes.


I feel very frustrated right now.

I know better than to expect life to be fair… but sometimes it still hurts when there’s a fresh reminder of just how much it isn’t.

I feel like I’ve spent so much mental energy trying to figure things out, trying to fix things, trying to force myself to behave in ways that were not where my heart was, trying to force my heart to be where it should be…

And now in trying to heal, trying to let go, trying to work through the pain, and detach the attachments, and fix the mess that is my own emotional situation right now, and to just keep looking towards moving forward.

And I know, that none of these are struggles that he’s had.

He gets to walk away, leave the pain and mess and heartache, and move right on.

He gets to fall in love again, because he never really had the attachments in the first place…. the ones that I’m trying so hard to get to release.

The more and more information has come out, the more and more I’m finding out that there was a whole lot of mess under the surface that was hidden. It’s not my mess to detail, but it’s substantial. There were two large things he was dealing with I was completely unaware of, one thing that I was aware of that was completely presented differently as a much smaller issue much shorter in term and in the past not the present… and just a whole big mess of things that I would have willingly walked through with him, but that he chose never to even hint at to me.

Some of this I’ve known for a while… some of it he’s still not completely admitted to.

And so I’m finding that basically everything I knew was just an act.

The attachments to what once was, are basically attachments to an illusion…. I don’t think he ever really let me into his true world, and I don’t think he had any intentions to.

The heart battles I’m fighting so hard to get past…. aren’t even to a real person.

I’ve known he was manipulating and playing games and not being honest about the breakup since the very start, when his actions didn’t match his words…. but I’ve since found that nothing really truly ever did even long before that.

He was the first person I’ve ever dated, among a lot, that ever really seemed to just have that click… that just really seemed to get me… that just really seemed to be just right, not perfect but perfect for me.

I’ve had my heart seriously broken by the third guy…. but honestly, while I’ve deeply loved three men, this is the first time that I’ve ever really felt like I was really loved back for who I am, quirks and all.

And now I’m having to let go of that, as I accept that he’s just a heartless coward… one who can’t even bring himself to take the right path with me even in ending things.

While that should make me feel better than I dodged a bullet I was willing to take, and that he did me a giant favor by pushing me out of a swamp of his messes that I was fully willing to wade through with him…. it really doesn’t make me feel better.

It makes me feel worse.

I know I took the high road with him. I did my honest best by him. I loved him as best as I knew how, and gave him my heart fully. This seems like it ought to make me proud for having done right even as he wasn’t actually playing by the same rules.

But it doesn’t.

It makes me feel stupid, and gullible, and weak, and like pathetic easy prey. Like I had a “needy loser, easy target” sign on my back.

And in the darkest moments, it makes me feel unloveable.

I know God loves me… but humans are another story. Most of you here know of my dysfunctional family and lack of support there.

The first time I ever really felt like someone had my back, like I was loved, like I was protected and looked after and claimed… and it was all a facade.

I mentioned back a bit last week of feeling like a completely disconnected alien, not even human, back in my late teens when I was struggling really heavy with anxiety attacks and felt very alone and like nobody took me seriously.

I remember during that time praying on many occasions for a human. Just one human… one that I could really feel safe with, feel loved by.

In a few really low points, I remember specifically praying that God mess with their head a bit, give them a weird quirk that happened to be enough that they wanted to be with me…. because honestly, I was at a point where I felt like nobody would ever do so on their own.

I felt completely unworthy of being loved by a human, regardless of God’s view of me. I felt like I was too messed up to ever actually be able to get a chance to play as part of a team, and would always be alone.

The prince felt like he was finally the answer to those prayers, more than a decade later.

He felt like I finally had my human… my teammate… my one person that was made with just the right settings to actually match mine.

When really…. he was probably just able to read mine well enough to mirror them back to fake it.

I’d accepted before that I was on my own, and had come to peace with it. I’d had enough frustrations with guys in my spell of rebellion, had enough of their physical affection to feel like I could get it if I wanted it but knew it wouldn’t ever really make me feel better, and had decided that it really hadn’t been worth the effort and I was better off on my own anyway.

When I started dating the prince, it felt like what all of those previous rounds hadn’t been… like this was what it was supposed to have been like… like this was what love really felt like, and that it was very much something that I’d never felt from someone before.

It felt like even if the worst happened, that at least I would have gotten a chance to know the real thing, gotten a taste of what it was supposed to be.

But instead, as I’ve come to accept that he was just using me… I’m having to accept that it never was.

And in dark moments, I’m back in that teenage place of feeling completely unloveable… totally unworthy of getting to have a human who really deeply cares about me enough to want to claim me as theirs.

I look back on our relationship, which I previously felt like I’d done as best I could with, and see all these places that gave him cause to not love me.

He’s told me before that “it’s not about you, I just need to be alone for a while, I’m on a new journey and need to figure out things for myself a bit”, but even as he’s said that, he’d made it clear he was looking for new relationships with other girls (by his own admissions at the meeting, on facebook, and on an online dating ad… hard to really buy otherwise) so, obviously, it was really about me personally, or it would apply to the other girls too.

He’s told me at one point he didn’t find me attractive enough anymore… even though he himself is as heavy as I am, and has a receding hairline.. but with the weight issue always having been something I’ve had little control over, it feels like the kiss of death resting over my head.

He’s mentioned my family has drama… another kiss of death that I can’t fix.

He came into my life at the worst possible time for a new relationship… while I was freshly wounded from the school failure, and trying to juggle a full time job plus a 3/4 time job plus a kid…

And failing and feeling completely and totally overwhelmed to try and keep things under control a whole lot more than I was willing to admit.

I wasn’t in a place where I was happy and outgoing and bubbly.

I wasn’t in a place where I was in the least bit proud of my housekeeping skills, my mothering skills, or any other skills other than managing to about kill myself trying to make the schedule work.

I gave him the best that I could…. but, the more I look back from a place of feeling unloveable, the more I feel like a pathetic loser and a total mess, and the more I completely don’t blame him for looking for something better and seeing the fact that I loved him like crazy as being anything but just that, my own craziness.

I think that’s why I feel such pressure to push myself to be ready to move on…. because I feel like I need to prove to myself that there is actually a human on the planet that can love me… that can stand to claim me as theirs.

Because I’m at a point where I’m back to a place where I’m not entirely sure that there really is.

God is god…. and yes, it’s awesome to know he loves me, and actually likes me.

But it’s still hard not to be able to have that physical element… of really having someone with flesh beside you.

I know no human is ever going to fill every need…. I know they aren’t meant to… and I know it’s dangerous to look to anything but God for validation.

But right now, the drive to at least find a bit of reassurance is there….

And so it’s driving me completely to frustration to find that every time I look at moving on… my heart turns on me… pulling me back towards a facade of a man who doesn’t care about me in the slightest anymore and probably never did…. and who gets away without even having to fight those struggles.

I know, he has more than enough of his own right now… but it still feels so unfair… to tease me with what my heart really wanted most, then hamper my ability to run after it elsewhere after you’ve taken the fake version away from me.


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