Tuesday, August 3, 2010

...go me!

Everyday, I learn more about who I am, what I want, where I am going... Everyday, more things fall into place inside my own mind. Everyday, I change.

I've been struggling with trying to figure out how to talk to my landlord. John came in the apartment almost two months ago, and I have kept trying to dismiss it... While at the same time not being able to.

I have been reading meditations from the book, Time to Break Free. I am on day 60, but I randomly turned to day 71.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm competing with other abused women. I may hear or take part in conversations in which women are comparing situations or abusers: "If you think that's bad, listen to this," or, "Your husband may have pushed you around, but mine treated me much worse."

This competition doesn't help anyone. We simply want others to know how much we've been hurt; we want to be heard, and we want compassion. There is a way to feel heard without comparing myself to others. Expressing my feelings about the abuse instead of the details of what happened helps me move forward in my healing process. "When he pushed me, I felt afraid, angry, and alone" is a healing statement. When I learn to speak in this manner, I find that all abused women have shared the same types of feelings. This helps me better understand other people as well as myself."
I have never been one to participate in competition stories. I refused to go to a support group after I divorced Larry, because I didn't want to participate in that. The friends I have chosen to associate with are very similar to me... Constantly dismissing their own stories as "no big deal". When they do it, I have no problem getting angry and upset for them. For me... not so much... But... Reading this, it REALLY hit me. I NEED to be heard. I NEED to be understood. I NEED compassion. There IS a way to be heard without telling "horror" stories.

It doesn't actually matter to ME if John coming in is right, or wrong, or good, or bad, or legal, or whatever... It doesn't matter if he had a good reason... It doesn't matter if he meant harm...
When John came into my apartment, I felt panicked, invaded, scared, and angry.
And the same thing goes for whoever has come into my apartment when I'm not there.
When I go into my apartment and things have been moved, I feel scared, anxious, and unsafe.
HA! I get it. I understand. I might actually be able to do this whole "life" thing.

1 comment:

  1. Ya, that's creepy to have someone coming into your apartment.

    Also, I'm glad you've found that you need to be heard. For me, having Robyn listen to my needs, my fears, whatever it may be, is very soothing and healing.