Day One

Not of the process.  Day one of this problem.

Somewhere along the way, I lost the person I wanted to be.  Thinking this morning, I realized I could pinpoint the moment I stopped caring.  Talking with a friend, I admitted this thought and had a similar story shared with me.  I was told that I wasn't a horrible person, just one with outstanding wounds.  When that wound was inflicted was when I adopted the phrase, "do I care - not enough."  It was when I questioned the purpose of being a good person if I wasn't going to be credited for it by the person who claimed to love me unconditionally.

August 2008, I started attending Pacific University in Oregon.  After something like 15 hours in a car and a couple days setting up my dorm and going through orientation, tension with my parents - specifically my mother - were high.  The last thing on our to-do list was to pick up the books I'd need for my classes.  $600 later, we left the bookstore and were standing outside, looking at the Pacific Avenue side of campus.

My mother asked for a hug.  Dad had pulled me aside earlier that day and explained that she was having a hard time letting go and asked if I could do what she wanted just for another couple hours.  So I did.  I gave her a hug.  And she whispered in my ear, "you're a horrible person."

Despite the tension and the resentment, that statement still came out of nowhere.  So did the shouted accusations that came after it.  Whore.  You're free to fuck whoever you want now.  There were others.  Those are the ones that stuck.

Yes, I was in my first intimate relationship and yes, I was leaving the "nest."  There were grounds for the things she said.  I'd not been a perfect daughter, but I'd always tried to do the things she wanted, how she wanted and this was what I got in return.  This was what my attempt to be a good person warranted.

I didn't realize it then, and I'm not blaming her now, but that was the trigger.  That was when I stopped worrying so much about being the good person I'd been until then.  That was when I started letting myself slide more and more, both on other peoples' expectations and on my own.

Since then, I've driven my first roommate and one of my best friends away.  I've broken four hearts, three to the point I also destroyed the friendship that went with them.  I've drifted away from the groups I'd supported and contributed to.  I've given up asking permission in favor of asking forgiveness.  I've adopted a habit of bending the truth and lying to get out of or lessen punishment and damages when I'm caught doing something wrong or that will be interpreted as bad.  I've stopped thinking about the things I do and their consequences.

Day one was four years ago.  Four years this wound has festered and tainted so many aspects of myself.  Four years I've been inconsiderate of the people I claim to care about.  Four years I've been too bitter and too hurt to really give myself over to anyone.

And then I finally did, finally started giving my heart, and went and screwed up asking forgiveness.  Went and screwed up not thinking.  Went and screwed up lying.  Four years is well long enough to let that go unchecked.  Four years is well long enough to be a horrible person.  I don't want to be the one constantly hurting people.  I'm done.  I'm at the bottom.  It's time to make myself right again, be a good person again.  Someone I can be proud of.  Someone others can trust without a shadow of a doubt.

Hobey ho.