Tags

, , , , , ,

It seems my post about blood on my clothes struck a cord with a few people. I have gotten a few notes from other’s who can relate to blaming themselves for what was never solely their fault in the demise of their relationship. I certainly know first hand how that feels. You see, apart of the blood on my clothes was from the continuous cutting that I did to myself every time I blamed myself and him for the wrongs that occurred in the relationship.

I really struggled with suppressing my anger towards the other woman. suppressing it wasn’t right but I felt like I couldn’t deal with her as much as I could easily put a face and name to the person who cheated on me; since, to this day, I have no idea what she looks like other than being the same race as him. This eventually meant that every time I went outside and saw a girl of this race I wondered if ‘she’ looked like her, and I subtly began to compare my attributes to hers; her hair, body shape, height, facial structure everything. Even as I type this I feel myself getting angry because I am just now working on these feelings. So every time I’d seethe deep down inside and hate her because I wondered if that was what she looked like and I’d hate him a little bit more for cheating on me.

This was one of the ways I’d allow the bleeding to continue by hating her the way I did. But I’d take it one step further and while comparing myself to her, I would always come out on the short end of the proverbial stick. My bronze skin wasn’t the same bronze as hers, though we shared some similar facial characteristics. After all, she is not the same race as me so some things would not translate over to me. And though my hair is quite long, my attributes were never, in my mind like hers. This was my form of cutting myself. But then, I’d cut myself even further by picturing him with this girl who had no relation to the cheat. Talk about torturing myself.

There is a restaurant near where I work that I go to every once and awhile for their tasty chicken dishes. One of the waitresses was one such girl whom I’d picture with the ex and I would secretly hate her deep down inside. At times, I could hardly stand being in her presence which was insane because I didn’t know her. I know I gave her the vibe that I didn’t like her even though I would smile and was very polite to her whenever she came by. Afterwards, I’d go sit in my car and cry because I loved the food but felt I couldn’t go back to that restaurant and face a girl who could possibly look like this cheater whom I’ve never met. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I suppressed it and decided to focus on him instead.

I blamed myself for his family’s actions post break up. I was once very close to them and they were very supportive of us. Now, they rallied around their son and left me out in the cold barely acknowledging that I existed. I’d repeat his mother’s words in my head after one particular conversation:

“Well you know G is outgoing and is very social. He likes going out and doing things”

I listened and wondered what she was implying since I was the one who was always dragging him out the house to go do this or that. It made me wonder what he told her and since I didn’t ask for clarification I decided it was perfectly fine to fill in the imaginary blanks with a lot of self blame, and negative dialogue. I concluded that he told her I was boring and he couldn’t take it anymore and as a result she was siding with her son. Looking back on that statement it could mean anything really. I don’t know if at that point she knew he cheated on me since it was barely a week post break up but still, I filled it all in any way. I told myself they didn’t like me after all, that maybe their son was right for what he did and maybe I was boring and anti-social. These were all things I knew I wasn’t but I was too busy looking at myself through his imaginary eyes which were biased and filled with contempt for me since he felt he had already found someone else that he wished to move on with.  I can’t believe I said those things and beat myself up like that.

I blamed myself for forgetting to pack the sexy lingerie I bought before our final trip to Montreal last October. I figured if I had packed it and put on a strip show for him in the hotel, maybe he wouldn’t have cheated when he met ‘her’ at the office party 2 weeks later.  I said that nonsense to R one night on the phone and she nearly choked on her drink. She told me that sex can’t make a man stay with anyone. I listened but couldn’t shake the self-proclaimed accusation that it was all my fault. I must have beat myself up for that for a good month till I finally told myself it was ridiculous!

I blamed myself for being there for him when his father totalled his sister’s car, then took his car and made it the family car for everyone, including the sister’s then boyfriend (now her fiance), who hated my ex, to drive when he felt like it. The ex got to sit and watch everyone else drive his car except him. He also didn’t have enough balls to stand up to his father and take his car back which he bought but now can’t drive. I blamed myself thinking that I was too accommodating and shouldn’t have made my car so accessible for him because I didn’t want him to lose his freedom. I thought maybe I was too supportive and made him feel bad by being there for him so much which made him resent me. Like I am an oracle and can read his mind. As if!

I blamed myself for agreeing to his friendship back in May that lasted all of two weeks from start to finish. I sat in that theatre as he began his explanation off empathetic then spun it into a full on blame fest as he shared how he realized that he lost the connection with me when he found it in her.  That hurt me so bad that I sat there stunned, again, for a second time. The first was when he stood in walmart and broke up with me, blaming me for everything and smirking in my face as tears rolled down my cheeks. As the pain of the word “connection” seared into me I began blaming myself for that too. I must have been a really bad girlfriend for now losing her man and not fostering the connection she didn’t know he lost in her because he would never open up about his feelings when something bothered him. I couldn’t get the word connection out of my head and it felt like a hard slap across my face every time it flashed across my mind.

I began to wonder what was wrong with me and why he found something wonderful in her but didn’t see it in me. I began to look introspectively inside myself in search of what was “lost”. I felt like dog shit for the rest of that evening. Then, after the movie and we left I really had to pee, so as I dropped him off at his house (can you believe I didn’t leave him right there?), he called me into his room and talked to me for 2 hours about nothing. I stood there by the foot of his bed like a stranger in a new place and listened. Eventually he tried to hug me and without even thinking I reached out, and punched him in the ribs. I don’t know where it came from but there it was. It wasn’t a hard punch but one that caught both of us by surprise. I think  my subconscious had enough and decided to do what my conscious mind was priding itself in not being, which is violent. He’s taller than me so he laughed it off and hugged me, eventually kissing me on the forehead. I should have run out of there like the wind was at my feet and followed my gut screaming at me to get out of there.

Basically, looking back on this encounter, his version of “friendship” was to unload his conscience while simultaneously dropping his pants. Guess that plan didn’t work out too well for him…

After that I was on a mission to improve xxBronzeGoddessxx, I’ll call it the Bronze Project. A project because I made it my personal mission to be happier, more outgoing, fun, talkative etc. Everything I thought would make me more attractive to this ass clown. AS if I wasn’t all of those things before the breakup and slap across the face but I figured if I had to be more so he would see that I had “changed” and we did have a connection and come back. I shudder at the word changed because at that point in May, I was still blaming myself thinking that the break up was indeed all my fault and he was right and I was oh so wrong.  

I analyzed myself and found myself lacking (surprise) so I felt I had to be better so he would come back to me and realize he really did love me. I was, om essense, telling myself I wasn’t enough. Well the Bronze Project didn’t turn out the way I wanted to because 2 weeks after this fake friendship started it crashed and burned into him telling me goodbye…again! Beforehand, I acted like I was fine with everything and I was this brand new awesome girl who was everything he could connect with. After that I had to take a hard look  ask myself a series of unsettling questions. I have to mention my awesome friends in this who watched me drive into the train wreck. They tried to warn me by asking if by talking to him again was what I really wanted to do. They tried to get me to analyze whether this was in my best interest but I didn’t have the emotional readiness to catch on and instead drove head on into a waiting train wreck that everyone saw coming but me. I love my friends and I’m glad they were there for me because they picked me up, brushed me off, then shook me by the shoulder’s and urged me to wake the hell up! I had to sit down and ask myself why I participated in a series of events that left me hurting and blaming myself all over again. One friend, on a saturday afternoon, glared at me over her plate of chicken wings and asked me if I really loved myself. For the first time I had to really sit and face someone, who cares for me and answer that question when I could see the answer in her eyes and I felt ashamed for it.

But it woke me up big time.

So I slowly stopped blaming myself. I focused on improving Bronze’s self esteem, self worth, and self love. I realized I loved him more than I loved myself. I cared for him more than I cared for myself. So I sought to change a lot of things about my personality that prevented me from doing what was in my best interest. It worked.

Another thing that worked, was having candid conversations with God. My parents raised in a Catholic household so I felt bad voicing feelings of such hate for the ex. So when it would well up inside of me,  and I couldn’t take it anymore, I’d speak about it out loud to God and tell him how I felt. I figured I might as well since it wasn’t like I could hide it from Him anyway. After all, He already knew. Everytime I told God how much I hated G, though I knew it was wrong,  the feeling would instantly go away. It shocked me and I felt bad for expressing hate when God is about forgiveness and love. So I cut myself up about that too.

No wonder I had blood on my clothes, on the furniture, on my friends, at work, on the street, in my car. Basically everywhere I went  I was walking around bleeding all over the place, and crying the whole time while still cutting myself over it.  Well, I can’t bleed anymore about this. Forgiving G will free me from the blame game that I had put myself through and from being susceptible to sneaky ways of allowing the blame game to pop up again and start this vicious cycle. Its time to change clothes, dress these wounds and finally heal…completely. So this is what I am working on next in the Bronze Project. First, forgiving G completely but not only him, ‘her’ as well. I’ll admit I’ve called her more than a few names in the past like,

“Bitch”, “whore”, and my favorite “that slut” among many, many other names.  It still feels good to call her that but I know it will trap me in feeling negative and ultimately stand in the way of my freedom. I can’t let that “slut” do that to me because I am sure she is not thinking about me and even if I have crossed her mind it doesn’t matter. So I wont be calling her that name  anymore, here or anywhere else. No matter what, she is a person too. I say that through gritted teeth because in my mind, I’ve actually disconnected her from being everything and anything human. In my head, she is a hell spawn but I know in reality she is not. She’s human.

I hope sharing these things with you guys will help you to realize how you may be blaming yourself and walking around with blood on your clothes, cutting yourself and bleeding all over the place. Knowledge really is power, and knowing is half the battle. Once you know, then you can start to find ways to make it stop. The next part of the Bronze Project is to forgive the human who knowingly participated with the ex in his cheating.

I really want to hear from you guys some more. Please share how you may be blaming yourself and how you have or are stopping the blame game. If you want to join me on my quest to forgive, and you feel you are ready to let go of the hurt and pain insert your name before the word “Project” and tell me all about it.

Take care everyone.

Advertisements