Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Growing Pains

Many moons ago, back in the days of MySpace, when attention paid to me was much smaller and the world online was of tighter borders, when I had an issue within my marriage..... I'd spout off about it via the Big Red Blog. I'd lash out at my husband, verbally, stating MY side of things, no matter how it made him feel. I rested on the fact that "writing is my therapy...." and that blogging had replaced my private journal keeping.

Valid enough point, except my dusty old journals were private. Putting one's dirty laundry out for the world to take a whiff of simply meant everyone could smell the shit swirling in your house.

I've pulled back from this practice as the number of eyes on me grew. It's embarrassing, sometimes, to be a hormonally unstable bitch. AND, let's face it, it didn't make The Yeti all that fucking happy either. Can't blame the man. Who wants their mistakes blasted into the stratosphere for everyone to weigh in on?

Turn about is fair play.

Here's a secret, folks: I'm not perfect.

I will pause while the shock wears off. *eyeroll*

I'm opinionated and bossy. I'm a control freak. I expect people to behave in a manner that I would behave in if in their position, never thinking for a moment in the heat of discomfort that OTHER PEOPLE have their OWN BRAINS and they're NOT going to react like I would because..... I'm me. They are them.

I've been unfair to a rather fair and kind and patient man.
I'm not saying he's perfect. If he were I couldn't be with him. Perfection is dull and impossible.

In the 11+ years of our marriage he has hurt me, but I in turn have hurt him as well. That's the side of it I was never willing to discuss. Deflect my own mistakes! That's the ticket! (Random 80's SNL reference there, for anyone who remembers it...)

Our latest Online Spat was detected by some. There were friends who stepped up to both of us asking if everything was okay. Some simply shook heads and walked away, tired of the same game of Pat and Kat being at war one day and smoochy-smoochy, kissy-kissy the next.

I get it. We're EXHAUSTING. Sometimes mildly entertaining. Drama of someone else's is always fun, to an extent, if you're not smack dab in the middle of it. That's how I explain the rash of Reality TV. It's good to see someone else's life get all boogered up because it can make ours feel more calm and normal.

But back to that issue of hurt.....

Whether intentional or unintentional, when we hurt someone? They have a right to say so. They have a right to say "You hurt me, damn it, and it sucks."
Forgiveness has to take place to move forward.

The hurt-er has to forgive their carelessness with the heart of someone they love more than themselves.
The hurt-ee has to forgive the careless fucktard who just smashed their emotions like a fragile Christmas bulb.

Forgiveness though.... it's not a solitary act. It's not singular. We can say "I forgive you" and mean it, until a day or week or month or year later something causes the painful event that was forgiven to resurrect and bite you in the ass like an Emotion Zombie.

Everyone knows from the horror film genre that something buried that comes back to live always comes back more evil the second time around, right? So when a wrong resurfaces -- either by repeated act or simply in memory -- it's bite can sting again. It's THEN that forgiveness has to renew itself. Forgiveness has to KEEP happening, again and again, until the Emotional Zombie dies for good and the issue of the hurt causes no pain any more. For some circumstances it can take no time at all, and for others it can be an ongoing struggle to see what wins: Forgiveness or the Zombie.

We hope, we pray, we bank on forgiveness winning every time.

I hope, I pray, I bank on the wrongs my husband and I have committed against one another to eventually die and never return. It's happening, slowly. When you love someone you are going to hurt their feelings. It might be intentional in a spat of childish rage. It might be unintentional in a moment of selfish thought or deed. But it happens. Those who believe it doesn't are setting themselves up for an unrealistic future that can't happen, and more hurt when the hurt comes along.

You see people, I'm kinda damaged goods. I knew this the night I met my husband. I've been through the ringer with other men before him, carry with me childhood issues that as a grown woman I should be able to put away. We think we can. We hope we can. We bank on the ability to do so. But things resurface, and we have to deal with them. It's the dealing that promotes the healing, and we want it to happen. Sometimes it just doesn't happen fast enough.

I'm rambling, I know.

This blog is more like an old dusty journal entry than anything I've ever written before online. I'm feeling out my emotions here. If you've read this far I have to wonder why? I know I'm not making much coherent sense. I just know that in the course of my marriage a lot of bombs have been dropped, grenades have been thrown. BOTH sides have lobbed pain around not to be mean, but more like temper tantrum throwing children who are cranky and in dire need of naps.

I'm owning my part in this here.
I'm owning my imperfections. Not the lop-sided boobs and metal plate in my head and webbed toes so fun to pick fun at and laugh about. I'm talking about the deeper imperfections none of us want to face in ourselves. The control freak issues. The unfair fighting tactics. The selfish nature of the little girl inside me who wasn't hugged enough by her Daddy. THAT bullshit. I own it, and I want to change it. I want to be a better wife to my husband. I want to be a better Mother to my children. I want to be a better friend to those who need me and to those who respect me and love me in spite of myself.

I want to be a better Katrina.

I only hope, with time and growth, that it's possible.....

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