Picking up from yesterday –
My goodness, there’s so much to talk about. It’s next to impossible for me to know when to talk about what…
Anyway, yesterday, I ended with saying that I truly questioned myself and my own emotions when he would tell me (not only on assault night), “You think you’re upset about this, what you’re really upset about is [whatever he’s deciding to put here].”
…Definitely a question I ask myself (so you may be asking to) is “Why do you allow someone else to dictate your emotions? Why would let you someone walk all over you like that when you obviously know what you’re upset about?”
Well… So much was going on. To recap what was happening: I was moving across the country (with zero notice), was leaving all my relationships I’d built for 5 years (including one specific one that was dreadfully hard to leave), started a new (dream) job having more responsibility than I ever had before (on a different type of show that I ever worked on). (So, while that was so fun, it was also so stressful.) I was trying to do well in BMI (which was slipping away from me more everyday). And I worked on the weekends as an elf at Macy’s for the fun of it. It was a lot (A LOT).
I had SO many changes happening – it was as though I was dropped into an entirely different world.
So, it felt like there perhaps was some legitimate room to wonder – am I actually upset about all this change, and taking it out on a “good man.” Am I misconstruing all of this?
Am I so overworked with an overtaxed brain that I really am unfairly having these angry emotions?
(It was easy to wonder, since cannot overstate how perfect he was in the beginning flirting stages. I mean, he seemed practically obsessed with me – so super wildly into me – and it was a compliment shower all the time. He was very kind and hung on my every single word… So, it made sense to remember that, and to think he’s a guy who cares about me a lot.)
Granted, I do know (or at least go over a fair amount in therapy, and am trying to know) that I had every right to be angry about the things I was angry about… But looking at everything around the situation, I can at least, sort of, kind of see why I’d sort of allow my emotions to be dictated to me – why I’d allow myself to be completely shut down.
Kind of the visual/story metaphor-type thing I use for myself to remember what all was going on (though, just for the record, I’m not trying to minimize kidnapping or burning buildings or anything…) is this:
There was sooo much going on last year. Imagine there’s this building just burning down around me. And then this firefighter comes in and sweeps me off my feet. And I think “thank god. Someone here for me.” He lightly puts me down in the ambulance, but I don’t realize until it’s too late that he’s not a real firefighter. And he’s actually taking me to a cabin in the woods. And it’s like, “Shooooooot! I would’ve been better off in that building alone!”
That’s kind of what it felt like… (And yes, I’ve watched potentially too much Criminal Minds in my lifetime.)
But if we continued with that metaphor, it’s kind of like I just stayed in that cabin – for way too long… Like I would potentially have the opportunity to leave. But I’d just say, “It’s not that dangerous here.”
Mentally he was just… I mean, it was torture… If we stick with this metaphor, it’d be kind of like he gave me water only every 3 days. And then just enough food to survive… and sometimes it’d be unsafe or spoiled or would make me sick. But it’d be enough to live.
And instead of thinking, “Hey, I’m being tortured!” I’d say, “Oh my gosh. Look at this! He’s giving me enough to survive! He’s being nice! I got a banana yesterday! I should shower thanks on him for that banana. If I keep saying how much his good stuff matters, maybe I’ll get more of it. Maybe, just maybe, if I’m better, I’d be able to earn better food, or he’d want to give me more. But just look at aaaaaaall he’s doing for me. I mean, hey! I got water today! How nice is that of him?”
(I do think the metaphor potentially got at least a little bit away from me.)
Anyway, I don’t know if any of that make sense… All of this barely makes sense to me, even still, really… But I’m trying.