I’ve been thinking a lot lately about personal responsibility.

The idea that not only do we get to choose how we show up in the world, but we also get to choose how we want to live.  Unless everything is predetermined.  But that’s a whole different conversation.

I spend most of my days existing in the world in a way that does a couple things – allows me to be as comfortable as possible (health-wise, in our home, etc) and allows me to fall asleep at night feeling at peace with who I am, what I did/said/acted upon/put out into the world.  I’ve spent so much time in the past few years reading philosophy and religion (and everything in between and around) and there is obviously no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way to be.

Every time I start to get frustrated (for various reasons, but currently due to the opposing positions that my in-laws and I take on pretty much everything) I remind myself that all the things I’m wondering — how do they sleep, how do they feel okay with the way they behaved, etc etc – is because they frame their lives, their interactions and their opinions within a completely different framework than I do.  Like most of us (myself included) they are the heroes of their story.  So even though they are not heroes to me —and from their point of view, I’m the villain- their belief would be that they are behaving in the correct way and everyone else is incorrect/rude/wrong.  So we are stuck at odds, believing totally different things but also NOT believing totally different things (morals, etc)  just framing them and interpreting them completely differently.

I don’t know that they spend any time considering my position in the same way I consider theirs but …. perhaps they do.  I just don’t know.

I find my heart full of angst and my brain full of frustrated questions about how they can possibly put themselves into the world in the ways in which they do, only to circle around to the fact that they do no believe they are doing anything harmful, but rather that harm is being done to them.

I could not imagine myself not taking responsibility for myself, for my own personal well-being, for my safety and for my understanding.  I just … I don’t understand.  It makes me work hard to not only comprehend, but have compassion.

Xox, g

Today has been excruciating.

I think I hit what might be identified as my breaking point.  I got to the point where nothing seemed worth it to keep up a charade that has been slowing eating away at my self-worth, self-esteem and happiness for years.

But reaching that point has also put a glaring light on something that John + I never discuss/deal with/acknowledge.  It’s been our dirty little secret for most of our relationship.  And having to face it has pushed our relationship into a pressure cooker.  He feels attacked, trapped … whatever he’s feeling that I don’t know because he gets deadly quiet and doesn’t talk at all.  And I’m feeling sad and alone.  But also unable to apologize or make things ‘right’ like I have in the past because doing that is in direct contrast with taking care of my own mental health.

On the plus side, for the first time in the years that we’ve been doing this dance with his parents, he conceded that they do treat me the way I say they do.  That he sees it and he doesn’t know what to do.  Which sounds awful typing, but was actually a relief for me.  Because until that moment, I was sure that he just thought they were justified in their behavior.  And I turned a blind eye, because I love my husband deeply.  It was like an unspoken agreement that we would just stay quiet about it all – but especially the really tough stuff.  That our love would somehow get us through it every time.

I know that the pain he must be feeling right now is awful.  Facing the infallibility of our parents isn’t easy.  It sort of disassembles so much of what we as people grew up believing.  And that can be devastating.

My heart is sore but I also know that I cannot stay stuck in this loop of denial and avoidance.  Because inevitably it leads to me getting physically and mentally sick.  And that just sucks.

Anyway.  Today has not been the best day.

xox, g

It’s one thing to talk the talk.  It’s entirely different to walk the walk.

Today was an epic fail of me walking any type of decent human walk.  I know I don’t usually get into specifics but we spent the day driving my in-laws to the hospital for my father-in-law to have surgery later this week.  The hospital in question is NIH and the drive from their house is not short.

It’s a lot of time in an enclosed space with humans who just don’t share many of my thoughts or ideas about life.  That’s a wide net to cast, but it needs to be because I have very little in common with my in-laws.  Other than my husband. And I continually find it hard to believe that a man as good as my husband came from two people who just … aren’t that good.

Anyway.  It’s very easy in theory to understand the dynamics between John and I and his parents.  But in practice, in real life, all that rational thought goes out the window and I struggle to just be basically kind.  It’s such a constant onslaught of uncomfortable conversations, judgement and condescension that I lose myself completely.  Only after it’s all over and I’ve had a little time to decompress do I realize that I have once again failed.

And then I get to the point of fatigue with the repetitive interactions that I decide it’s all insanity on my part — repeating the same actions with the hope of a different outcome – that I don’t want to try anymore.  Haven’t I learned?

But you don’t get that reprieve with family.  Family never leaves, family never relents.  It’s ongoing and stressful and unrewarding.

And that was today.  And Wednesday.  And then hopefully not again for a very, very long time.

Xox, g