How can I hate myself and hate hating myself at the same time? And what, or who, is creating this polar opposition?
July 23, 2016
Though I guess the opposition isn’t so polar after all. Hate is hate, right? Hating hating myself, it seems, is still hate directed at myself. My whole world is seen through the eyes of fear.
I want out of this car. It’s suffocating.
I’ve been angry and upset and felt neglected and unloved. But right now I’m just really sad and scared for him.
I gave him a deadline of April 30th. Either he agrees to treatment or I have to end the marriage.
He’ll answer anything but the question. We’ve been in counselling for a few months but he can’t tell me what we’ve talked about. He won’t admit to knowing what it is I’m asking him to tell me by April 30th. He tells me one thing and in the next breath says another. I’m confused as hell by him. Nothing is straight forward. Everything that comes out of his mouth is a play on words, a trip that he doesn’t want me to follow. It’s like a second person in the room. He says he loves me and just wants me to move home but when I ask him if he understands why I won’t he says he doesn’t get it. Worst of all, in the mess of his head, I’m starting to lose my own. I’m second-guessing myself in EVERY way.
What do I do?
I can’t believe I’m about to walk away from this marriage, this man that I love so, so much. But it’s not even him I’m dealing with and I can’t reach him.
Is walking away the right thing to do?
He hasn’t told any of his friends. I’m so close to disclosing to one of his friends in hopes a different voice might reach him. But I don’t even know if that’s the right thing to do.
I am losing myself the more I allow myself to try and find an answer that might never be found.
It breaks my heart.
This is breaking me.
WTF Just Happened?
I saw someone literally change before my eyes. A different face. The contortions rippled on and over the body. It was someone different.
I wasn’t afraid. I was interested.
Is this the truth?
There’s truth in there somewhere but I’m more unsure of everything now.
I was shown photographs. I’d never seen them yet some of them I’d seen before.
Something is amiss here. Or am I overthinking things again?
This person didn’t exist in this world – not my world.
I sat as the observer from a different plane.
I thought he was real but he seemed anything but.
Am I real?
How do I explore the next realm while confined to the roots of this world?
Have I completely lost my fucking mind?
Is choosing to leave my marriage, my alcoholic husband, self-centered? Is this the self-centered ego doing something for a thought-based reason?
Is it wrong to have pets?
I love my dog. I thought I loved my dog. Do I though? Can I confine my animal to this world, call claim to it, and still truly love it?
Me – “They’ve never done anything to me. I used to play with them as a kid.”
Other – “I’m sure they didn’t see it that way.”
But no one taught me any differently. I didn’t know. How am I supposed to know what it is I don’t even know I don’t know?
Are the haphazard and strange encounters with others how self-realization manifests itself?
What else have I done wrong?
The acorn that falls to the forest floor, has it fallen from the tree of life or from self?
Has it died to self and returned to the earth? Or has it fallen from the breath and roots of life to the rotting decay of the world?
What is the tree? What am I?
Am I the tree stemming from the Source and letting go of the seeds of the world that are trying to starve me?