Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Worth.

When I was younger, I was convinced that I had clung with irascible tenacity to the notions of absolutes, self beliefs and ideals. It wasn't always apparent but it lurked in my mind and I believed in times of great stress that I was inflexible. I remember writing a lot about 'unalterable fights' and 'absence of resolutions'. That was till I got into a real fight - it left me so broken that even years and years of memories, good will and love could offer scant or unsatisfactory occasions for resolution.

Now however, post the big fight, several people have pointed out that I am necessarily conciliatory by nature. I have seen it in myself too - I have lost faith that if I were to fight with someone, they would care enough to make up, they would care enough to cajole me into being less angry with words of love and words of need. I don't have that confidence anymore and so I conciliate because I cannot bear anymore fights. I want resolutions and placidity and history. I cannot lose people anymore, I cannot nurture discontent and anger anymore.

I had hoped that those who care about me will envelop me into a warmth of reassurance that even if I was insane now, even if they could not understand why I was mad - I was important enough to resolve, to appease, to talk down the ledge. It breaks my heart that all the cajoling, all the leading, all the words I want to hear must now come from me. I am not worth anything for anyone - everyone would leave me if they could because the stress I bring is not supported by enough joy to counterbalance, enough interesting conversation, enough quirkiness to amuse or even enough sex appeal to attract. I want to see myself as a nicer person who has grown up but in truth, it is the blurring of the outlines while I dissolve into the fabric of life, not definite, not clear anymore.

I am not suggesting that there isn't any power in being responsible and taking charge of your own feelings, even to the point where you self-modify to accommodate certain nuances that though prickly are nevertheless less painful than total loss. I appreciate that I am calmer in moments of direct confrontation which burn me later, in moments of pensive reprieve of thought. I am appalled however, by how much responsibility I have not only undertaken for my own happiness but by how aware I am of this undertaking and how much I resent it. It brings me no joy. Maybe I don't offer others the chance for reconciliation - maybe it is at that point that my ego and sense of self pushes others away.  But I don't trust you to make me feel okay and I can't bear to hurt you even as I hurt so badly. So I will do the wounding, the convalescence as well as the recovering for both of us. I also get the resentment, the heartache and the crippling self doubt. It is all me, all for me, all by me - and there is little doubt where I am so large and at so many places at once, you can't find a place to feature - here too, you escape as I blame me for you leaving.

I am my own most unique and exquisite torturer.