I'm not sure how coherent this post will be as I'm pissed. And sometimes, pissed and coherent don't go well together.
Dear God, guilt has destroyed so many days, years, relationships... Guilt was what destroyed my marriage.
The most frustrating part of guilt, to me, is that I'm surrounded by people who say, "It hurts when I do this." and I'm always the one who says, "Well, then STOP DOING THAT."
And because I tell you to stop kicking your own ass, I BECOME THE ENEMY?
All of that guilt and shame are yours, your special gift to your own fucking self. You carry it around in your baggage and never look at it. You never stop to say, "Is this serving me?"
Instead you use that shame to hold secrets. Secrets that destroy you from the inside out. Secrets that destroy relationships. Secrets that fester from self-hate, shame and guilt.
Instead you prove Einstein's definition of insanity... doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
What the hell is wrong with living honestly, authentically?!? I promise your life will feel a whole lot less heavy if you do.
And I KNEW what would happen...
I knew it. I could feel it emanating from you. I can always sense guilt and shame and only God knows why I have this sixth sense to know that shit. I knew that if I even bothered to cast my shadow in your direction that you'd turn your own self-sabotage into MY ATTACKING YOU.
When I did nothing of the sort!
But isn't so much better to blame someone else for the pain you're causing yourself? Doesn't it feel really good to project all of that crap on to the person standing closest to you? You think it will make you feel lighter to do that but it doesn't, does it? No. Now you hate yourself even more.
You'll blame me for that too.
All I did was give a flying fuck because I see you hurt yourself over and over and over and you tell me how it hurts you over and over and over and I'm sick of the whole damn thing.
I don't know whether to tell you to stop sharing your pain with me or if I should just stop fucking caring.
I'm so leery of pointing out the guilt and shame that these days, I don't say anything. I am simply there, silently loving you.
But of course! Because you're all filled up with guilt and shame, there's no room inside you for caring. No. How dare I even bother to care when you're in this battle with yourself? How dare I suggest that you replace that guilt and shame with love?
No. I'm an all out bitch for doing that.
The worst part is... I actually take it personally that you reject my love. I take it personally that you'd rather continue filling yourself with self-hatred than allowing me love you. That's flat out ridiculous. Completely crazy. I'm letting it affect my own self-worth... or rather, I'm realizing that I allowed that to happen before.
Well, no more.
Go fuck yourself.
You seem to enjoy doing that anyway.
You let me know when you're willing to let me in again. I'll be over here still sending love to you. When you stop batting it away, you will see that I've NEVER given up on you.