Saturday, June 06, 2009

Ways people abuse you
  • Tell lies and half-truths to avoid having to justify actions or ideas.
  • Accuse and blame to divert attention away from them selves.
  • Refuse to take another's point of view and irrationally defend their point of view
  • With hold information so the abused will look bad later on ("you should have known that"). Not sharing information someone is entitled to.
  • Not acknowledging another's feelings.
  • Slighting or taking digs in a non-aggressive or joking manner. Allows the abuser to say he was just kidding while still being abusive.
  • Changing the subject to divert attention from themselves.
  • Making someone feel worthless in an attempt to lower their self-esteem and bring them down to the level of the abuser.
  • Threatening or hinting of physical, mental or sexual abuse.
  • Denying anything is wrong (not being responsible and lying to self).
  • Inappropriate emotional out bursts (a form of distracting attention, confusing the abused or shifting blame).
  • Controlling others to domineer and limit the freedom or expression.
  • Forgetting commitments and promises.
  • Denying success by placing unreasonable demands, unjustly singling out or constantly placing someone in the category of a loser.
  • Taking advantage of ones weakness or using shame, guilt or fear against another.
  • Manipulating another person against their will.
  • Submissive actions.
  • Cutting some one off so they are not allowed to speak. Suppressing self-expression.
  • Eliminating your ability to choose.
  • Inappropriate questions or comments to evoke an emotional response.
  • Humiliating someone in front of others or inappropriately pushing their buttons.
  • Pretending to understand your concerns, and then disregarding them.
  • Slandering some ones name, reputation, associations or activities.
~http://www.designedthinking.com/Fear/Abuse/abuse.html
Funny how I have the ability to lie to myself. To say, 'I'm good to do this!' when I know I probably won't be tomorrow - but whatever. Recklessness, I gather. Anyway, sending forth my questions, my nervous inquiries, the messengers return with a darker emptiness with, as with Cupid in TWHF, a “passionless and measureless rejection” that goes deeper then anger. It is shame. I guess anger is used to deal with shame: it is outward looking, self-justifying, defensive. It leaves to kills the things that remind us of our shame, without dealing with the source of shame itself. And yes, we are most ashamed of the things that we cannot help.

As I told P once, "I think you're doing the job for 2 people, you're dealing with how you're feeling while trying to figure out how she's feeling and trying to alter your reactions to fit." He nodded in frustrated agreement. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. And while this continues I know that the patterns carry on and that I just need to sleep.


As she walks in the room
centred and torn
hesitating once more
as I take on myself
and the bitterness I felt
I realise that love lost
While white horses
they will take me away
and the tenderness I feel
will send the dog home to me
will I follow ?

Through the glory of life
I will scatter them on the floor
disappointed and soar
in my thoughts I have bled
from the riddles I've been fed
another light moves over
While white horses
they will take me away
and the tenderness I feel
will send the dog home to me
will I follow ?

Portishead :: The Rip
And maybe you're all right, but give me my time to be wrong.
Pray for grace like rain.

Friday, June 05, 2009

I am just realizing that I am afriad to admit that I'm hurt, and I wonder why.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

I am slowly learning that it is ok to be small, scared, unsure and sad.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

"Don't you think the things people are most ashamed of are the things they can't help?"
~ Till We Have Faces

Sunday, May 31, 2009

What was once mysterious confidence is really blinded cowardice. The indifferent self-assuredness melted away into a pathetic need for attention along with the esoteric brilliance, which shuddered into irrelevant bumbling confusion. Yet you walk in my dreams and somehow manage to keep me in your wake. Life isn't fair, yes, but I'm not going to be the one to complain. Just that, if you see me holding onto the rib muscle you crushed, it is because I find it unbearable to stand, and feel the need to hold myself up against the weight of your memory. I can't say for sure if I'll ever get over this, and there are many things I worry about as a result. But I guess I just have to take it one fumbling step at a time. There are so many things I could hope to say, but it would all be in vain. So.