Check My Brain

I had been waiting. I’m always waiting. I was waiting for an answer. I just wanted to know. I chose to feel like I was safe in some ways, when I wasn’t. It made me question my judgement. Even if I always knew. I always know. Because I was questioning my trust in others, it made me start to question myself. But, I know myself. I don’t need to question that. I know who I am. I know how I feel. I stopped questioning myself, almost immediately. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I chose to ignore myself. I knew what I was sacrificing in myself. I trust myself. I was still waiting, even if I felt like nothing was wrong with me. It wasn’t up to me to check it. I didn’t stick my dick in other people, so to speak. It was up to him. I heard nothing for almost a month. This is not uncommon. Last time he was asked to be held accountable, he disappeared. I was anxious about reaching out. I felt like no contact was the answer. The best answer for me and my mental health. But, I kept waiting for a response anyways. I decided to ask. I just want to rest these thoughts and the feelings attached. It’s one of the last things I need to know to move forward. I got a response fairly quickly, which surprised me. My anxiety levels were so high at this point. I didn’t think I would hear anything at all. I was hoping for a “yup, it’s done, all good” while not holding my breath. Instead, I got a pity party. “I couldn’t because” excuse. A “plausible” excuse that only accounted for two weeks out of the month I’ve been waiting for a response. I got a startling paragraph. Then two graphic photos. I felt like I was punched in the gut. I couldn’t even read it and look at the photos. I took a really long walk. I talked it out with people. I sat with my feelings before attempting a response. I didn’t even register all the words. I got the gist of it, alright. Today, I am left wondering, what did I do to invite this?

Nothing. Because…

Things I didn’t ask:
How are you?
How are you feeling?
Are you hurt?
Are you okay?
Did you get harmed lately?
How’s the new life?
Can you tell me about how you were hurt?
Can you send me proof?
Can you explain what is causing the hold up?
Can you send me graphic photos of your beat up face?

However, these are the things I did ask:
Can you update me on the results of this test?

I get that people will just run with whatever they feel like running with. I understand that. Completely. I totally get that I have kind, watery eyes that make me look so sweet and innocent. I get that I look like an easy target. I get that I don’t always say what’s on my mind. I get that sometimes what I do say is very simplified and sometimes taken very strangely. I get that people love me or hate me immediately. I get that people think they can take advantage of me because they think I am stupid, vapid, “blonde,” air-headed, empty headed, unintuitive, dumb, annoying, crazy, weird, etc. when they first meet me. I know I am none of those things. I get that people think they can get things from me. That my time, energy, patience, empathy, love, and body are “up for grabs” because I give pieces of myself out without question. I understand that mostly people just don’t get me. I get that most people only see one aspect of me and think that is all I am. Even in my writing, I am only providing a few pieces of myself. I am a whole, though. I am a whole person that is always expanding. I have so many facets and it’s not everyday that I am showing all of myself. I give a little here, a little there, a bit spread around over there and over here, and most of it is meant for me. I know this and I am waiting. I am always waiting. I am waiting for someone I can show all my cards to. I always have been. Even when I thought I was showing all my cards, I only had some of the decks. Sure, I gave those friends and my ex-husband most of my cards… but there were cards that became available after I ended those relationships. I grew. I expanded. I reached new levels I didn’t even know were possible. Now, I know there are all kinds of hidden cards over here. I just found a fucking new deck, dude. Every deck I own has an Empress and The Star and The Sun and I have them facing up right now. There’s so much more that I am not showing. I’ve got so many decks, I don’t even know all my cards and I am still trying on all the new cards I just got. (I am so beautiful. I had no idea. I thought I was objectively pretty sometimes and I figured that I had good parts inside of me, but I had NO IDEA just how fucking hot and GORGEOUS I am! I had no clue that I had all that inside me the whole damn time! I was always envious of other beautiful people who just have IT and it turns out, I just didn’t have the expansion pack yet to see it in myself. I have the potential to be so much more, too. It’s so lovely to know this! I hope you see it inside of yourself, too someday.)

It’s not for everyone to know all my cards. Not even me all the time, I pick and choose now who I give myself to.

It’s one hell of a thing to know all this and still have basic human interactions go like this:

Me: *Specific question*
Them: *Doesn’t answer the question at all*
Me: “So… the question I asked….”
Them: “How dare you not even acknowledge MY FEELINGS that have NOTHING to do with you or the question you asked!”
Me: “ok.” *dies inside*
Them: *sees I’m dying inside* “you are heartless. How can you just sit there and not do anything about the feelings I am having that are not your problem or fault!?”
Me: “um...” *genuinely just wanted the question answered*

There was a time when he had access to me. Well, he had access to a small grouping of parts of me. I allowed him to see more and more all the time, but I was not overextending. I didn’t give out anything I didn’t get back. It still hurt to hold back. It still hurt to realize what I did give back wasn’t received in kindness and with care. That hurt a lot more than I would admit to him. I spent two years being single and working on myself to give some troll a chance and it turned out to be like this. UGH! AS IF! It still hurts to know that I wanted to keep giving more and I am not allowed to give anything anymore. He doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t want it, and if he did want it or deserve it, he wouldn’t have did me dirty like he did. But, like a hole in a dam, the water still flows, even if I keep going around trying to plug it up. I let a little trickle out, but I am aware of it. I don’t think it’s noticeable to him since he had several different rivers to choose from (his choice to have several rivers that he jumped in and out of), so why would he notice that my river mostly dried up and there was only a little trickle from me? He didn’t appreciate it when it was flowing for him and he thought he could always have access to this river. Unfortunately, the river has disappeared and he no longer has the directions. I can’t imagine that he doesn’t feel the gap of me not being there anymore, but it’s not my problem. He should have been nicer to me if he wanted to keep me around. I still care. I don’t just cut off all my feelings to myself. I feel it. I feel the gap and the loss. I feel the holes. I am a person. Simply just a person. Trying to figure out how to get my energy back and put it into myself. I know more about myself than I ever did before and I know where I need to expand and where I can pull back. This is a pull back situation. 100%. He doesn’t get to have access to me anymore. He doesn’t get to know how I am feeling. He doesn’t get to hear all the complicated thoughts. I don’t know if he ever did get to hear it all. He got the simplified version. The held back one. The one that I chose to give out to someone who was holding out on me. The version of me that I would give someone I was starting to be friends with. Not even the version my friends get. They get so much more than he ever did. There are some ways that he got more than my friends ever will, too. There is a certain hidden intimacy in relationships. He got the most intimate version of me that I’ve ever shown anyone, in a small way. He got to see a side of me that never got to come out before. It was stunted before I even blossomed. He did get to see that part. Some other people got close. A couple got close. But, not like he did. He got to see that part of me. Too bad he didn’t deserve to, but good for me that I got to see it, too. He is only special in that one way. Bummer that he wasn’t special in any other way. Win some, lose some. It’s hard for both parties to suddenly go from having access to someone to… not. It’s hard to know that you used to share yourself and receive parts of someone on a regular basis. Daily. Hourly, sometimes. But, now? Now, he doesn’t get to have the insight he had before. Sure, some of it is here, but this isn’t for him. It’s not for you, either. It’s for me. It’s always been for me. I hope my writing helps someone understand themselves better. Maybe it helps people understand me more, too. Or, maybe it just makes people question everything they thought about me. I kind of like that. I like that I show myself to people in some ways, these small slivers, and then they read one of my posts that shows a facet they didn’t know existed and they are thinking, “Wait, WTF!? Who is this woman!?” I am me.

Unfortunately, you have met only a part of me. You probably created a version of me that reflects you and since I am only allowing you access to some of my parts, it probably coincides with the parts I chose to show you so that you felt more comfortable to be around me because neurodivergence and years of trauma have taught me that it’s easier to show the parts other people are comfortable with and not necessarily the parts I want to show people or even sometimes, who I really am. (It has been quite some years since I stopped pretending to be some weird fucked up version of myself that would allow others to feel safe being their own fucked up selves like some absolutely unhinged version of solidarity which caused me extreme distress and to make horrid and awful choices out of curiosity. But, I have grown up. Fuck that version of me. She sucked. I don’t play that card anymore. I ripped it up and burned it.) Now, you see yourself in me and it’s you. That makes you uncomfortable because you don’t want to see yourself in me. I am not at fault because you look in the mirror. I do not accept responsibility for what I help you see. I am only here to help you improve and how you improve is by getting uncomfortable with the parts of yourself that need to change. I just hold up the mirror, man. Sometimes, I say it’s your reflection you see so bluntly and that hurts, too. I have learned to be more tactful. I have learned to just not say anything at all, too, unless I get frustrated with feeling taken advantage of and even then, I still try to be gentle, but I am not perfect. I know for a fact it’s because of YOU. Not me. That is quite comforting, to me, honestly. I can be okay with that. Better than how I did it before. I used to take it really personally that I held up the mirror because people like to see me when they look at themselves. But, it’s not me, brother. I see myself in my own mirror. I have been VERY uncomfortable with myself. I fucking expanded and grew from it and now I want to know something…

I asked a simple question.

Give me a simple answer. “Not yet.”

Give me the BEST answer: “No, I haven’t yet. I apologize that I did not update you sooner. I have had some unforeseen circumstances blocking me from being able to prioritize that right now, but I plan on following through and I will be able to accomplish it in the next few weeks. Please allow me to pay for your testing if I can’t get it to you soon enough. Sorry again for the inconvenience.”

Definitely do not send me: “I got assaulted and here’s the proof.” *Sends two graphic photos no one asked to see and cannot unsee*

It pinched me. Right in the gut. I was already anxious. I couldn’t even fully register/read/look at it until a day later. I shouldn’t have to handle unsolicited graphic text/images of violence from someone that no longer has access to me. I don’t want to have to handle it. I CAN… I just don’t WANT to. I shouldn’t have to!

 

Inner monologue: “There’s no reason why I should have to be subjected to your problems because YOU CHEATED on me and LIED TO MY FUCKING FACE for a YEAR! That wasn’t a ‘mistake’ or just trying to figure something out, it wasn’t a ‘BIT OF AN OVERLAP!’ That was CALCULATED, ASSHOLE! You don’t get to have access to me anymore. You don’t get my empathy, kindness, ear, shoulder, or love anymore. You don't even get my sympathy! You made it clear that you were never going to be kind to me. You fucking VIOLATED my trust. Fuck you.”

Initial response aside, after thinking it over over the last day, I have flip-flopped a lot of ideas on what I could or should respond with. I didn’t feel right about sending any of it. I keep thinking about the inner monologue and that has fueled me to have a whirlwind of reasons I should pick some over the others and then I turn back around and do none of them.

Things I wanted to text back:

“wow.”
 “OMFG!? ARE YOU OKAY!?”
“HOLY SHIT!”
“WOW!”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you!”
“What did you do?”
“Did you ask out the wrong girl, or what?”
“Did you cheat on someone else there?”
“Did the girl you were hitting on find out about me and the other woman you’ve been keeping secret and her older brother came after you?”
“OMFG! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!?”
“Is it safe there?”
“Do you feel safe anymore?”
“ Where was this?”
“What time of day was this?”
“What were you doing there?”
“When did you get out of the ER?”
“Did you miss school because of this?”
“I didn’t ask for this response.”
“I didn’t ask for those pictures.”
“Fuck you.”
“You probably deserved it, TBH, you’re kind of a bad person.”
“Good for them.”
“Bummer, dude.”
“So did you get the test scheduled?”
“Cool. Sounds like you have the test scheduling handled.”
“Let me know what the results of the test I asked for are.”
“If you want sympathy, find someone else, bro.”

Things I actually sent: