Husband and baby are now sleeping, and my mental dilemma continues.
We got the ticket to get me to Texas for my brother's wedding. Thanks everyone!
Also, I found my materials to make my bridesmaid dress and have made some headway into the origami flowers for the wedding.
For me and my life, things are pretty much right on track, potty training aside. I'm even making new friends.
That brings me to the random excess dilemma of the moment. Most of the people who have time for me and for whom I have time tend to fall into the category of having figured a few things out. Some are in rockier relationships than others, but most have partners who at the end of the day are trying to work with them, not against them. These people are capable of change.
But some aren't. Some people find themselves stuck in abusive situations. I know because I've seen it before. I watched my future sister-in-law navigate such a marriage, and it took a long time to claw her way out, but she's there now, on solid footing emotionally, happier and more secure tan I've ever seen her.
I don't know that I knew how to help her when times were tough, but we'd been talking once a week every week since college, so it was easy to lend an ear and try to help balance things out.
Once I was good at this shoulder-to-cry-on stuff. A long time ago, I was the arms wrapped around a girl in the ghetto while we hid in the closet, listening to her father strike her mother. Once, I could help, in whatever meager way I knew how. But I knew how.
That is lost to me now. I find myself already at my wit's end, having begged everyone I can think of for advice on the subject and coming to the conclusion that no amount of advice is really going to change the facts here. Inside, I feel inadequate. As a friend and confidant, I feel like a sham, because I don't know how to call upon that patience, to root from the sidelines and watch the long game, reminding a friend that there is a path out of the darkness if she has the courage to take it.
All I want to do is scream bloody murder. I would rather fight with my fists or my words than stand by, but standing by is all I can do.
People who choose to be in abusive relationships-- romantically, physically, pharmaceutically; it doesn't matter how-- have to make the choice to get out. Reminding them that there's a choice might be the best you can do.
The same goes for a slew of mental issues. Take hoarding for example. I am a hoarder, but someone else cleaning my house for me doesn't fix crap. It'll only bring on an anxiety attack, and if I have the money to, I'll fill all that space back up with stuff in no time. Retraining my brain to organize and utilize; reminding myself that some things saved past their prime are wasted-- that's how to get me out of this. I have to choose to improve and stay committed to not over-buying, not long-term storing, not keeping all of the useless junk for eternity.
So, if you're in a bad place, remember there's a road to recovery. There is a way out of your hell. It will be painful but worth it when you're in a position not to be someone's punching bag, emotionally or physically. But you have to choose self-repair. I can't choose it for you.
But knowing this and writing this does little do quell the chorus of self-loathing echoing inside. I'm not good at being a friend anymore. I'm not a good friend.
That's not to say I don't have good friends or that I'm not a good friend to anyone. It's only to say that my patience is limited, and the amount of drama I am willing to watch, even more so.
I am suddenly really glad that I never became a therapist. If this is my tolerance level, I would have done more harm than good.
Also, I talk too much.
I want to be a better friend, to save your day by reaching into your head and fixing whatever makes you think this is a normal or natural behavioral trait, but I've lived long enough to know that's impossible. But I will be here rooting for you, hoping you choose life over BS, movement over stagnation, pain-transitioning-to-happiness over hell. I'll try to listen, and I am sorry if I fail.
I will try again, and try harder.
I hope you do, too.
