I know that my post yesterday was a bit... irrational. But hey, I never claimed that I nor this journey would be. The rational side of my brain tells me that of course I'm loved. The irrational side says it's all fake, that there's no way my husband loves me, how could he? I'm unworthy of love. I mean, God, I don't like myself all that much.
Unfortunately, the irrational side usually wins out. And as much as I know that it's ridiculous, I can't stop thinking this way. I'm constantly terrified that my husband is just going to up and decide one day that he's had enough and I'm not worth it. That he says he loves me, but he really doesn't.
And sessions like the one I had yesterday where we talk about my childhood kind of brings all of that scared-little-girl-me back up to the surface and I feel unbearably lonely and unloved to my very core. It drowns every other feeling out.
How can I stop thinking this way? I've read so many self-help books, tried all the exercises in those books, but those dark thoughts keep taking over. And God, what does my husband have to do to prove to me he loves me? Doesn't he show me in so many ways all the time? What do I expect really? Especially when I want to push him away the minute he tries to have a heart to heart or show me any kind of affection.
But see? See where this is leading? It's leading me to talk myself into the fact that I don't deserve him or his love. It's like a viscious cycle I have no control over. And yeah, I know, that makes me sound like the victim. I'm not sure how to fix that, either.
Times like these I just feel so lost. And, like I've said in the past, I cannot imagine having to fight this battle day in and day out for the rest. of. my. life. I just want someone or something to fix me, dammit. Humans need a System Restore button.
Personal development and therapy is such hard work. I give you kudos for actively taking part in the process. You won't feel like this for the rest of your life. It's like cleaning out a wound, hurts intensely at first but then it is MUCH better. You will heal and feel peaceful, but it will take time. And there will always be stuff to work on, it just gets easier and easier though.
ReplyDeleteYou might want to consider reading Captivating by John & Staci Eldredge. Reading this post totally made me think of that book. It might reach you!
ReplyDelete(((Hugs))) Hang in there.
You should read The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama.
ReplyDeleteGr. Mel
I agree with Holly. But I also have a few points to mention.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, the wounds you have received in the past have convinced you, beyond all reason, that you are somehow defective to the point that no one can love or accept the real you. The love shown to you by your husband and children flies in the face of this belief, so you push them away, hoping in time that they will reject you and prove your theory right. A part of you desperately wants to be right because it will justify you being a victim for as long as possible. As a victim, the responsibility for how you feel and act is put upon others and removes your obligation to undergo the painful process of change. (The rational part of you, however, wants to change and become healthy again.)
Secondly, by pushing away those who love you, you are perpetuating the same cycle of wounding that started with your parents. You desperately wanted to be loved and accepted by them, but your efforts to please them always fell short. Now your husband is in the same boat: no matter what he does to show that he loves you, it is never good enough to win your affections. This may be an unconscious effort to mold him into someone who can empathize with you. Or maybe it's just an outlet for the anger and pain you wish you could inflict upon your parents.
Thirdly, that overwhelming feeling of being unloved is not your gut or instinct: it's called fear. How do I know? Because you described it as being irrational. Fear is almost always irrational. I have fear, too. I fear nearly every day my husband goes to work that I'm going to receive a phone call saying he's been in a fatal accident. Sometimes I start to cry when I let this scenario play out in my head. I also fear that my son will stop breathing in his sleep. If he hasn't stirred by 8 a.m., I start to panic. Yet there is no reason for me to believe that either of these terrible things will happen. I manage these fears by looking at the facts: (1) my husband is smart enough to avoid accidents and minimize injury, and (2) my son is strong and healthy. Here is a fact for you to consider: out of 3.5 billion women, your husband chose you to share his life, share his name, share his bed, and bear his children. By marrying you, he made a public statement that he prefers you above all other women on this planet. That means you cannot be unlovable or unloved. You cannot be so damaged or defective as to be unacceptable. Something inside of you (a great many things, I'm sure) is good enough to satisfy another.
Forgive me if I have touched a nerve. I want more than anything to encourage you. The words you write on this blog convey an inner strength that many people do not possess. Self-help books are great, but sometimes the answers we seek lie within ourselves.