Three strikes and you are out
I care too much. I care too deeply. Once my walls come tumbling down, I trust too much. I think if they cared enough to chip away at the walls then they must care. This is where I get myself in trouble.
Throughout the year in therapy we have been working on boundaries, relationships and how to make those two work. I developed a three strike rule, third strike and you are out. This was to save me from the ever turbulent waters of navigating life with other people.
I suck at relationships, I push the wrong people away, and let in the words of my mom " energy sucking vampires" in. I have never known balance in relationships, personality disorders and PTSD gives a pretty skewed version of life. So I came with the three strike rule, show me your heart is ugly three times, and you are out. I think it's fair, and let me tell you it has been a life changing rule.
Over the course of the year, the whole year, this has come into play a few times. I tell myself to stand firm in this new rule, because well how many more chances do I need to give a person to show me they are ugly? Three is more then plenty, but I doubt myself because well I can't run away from the monster in my head, so we have to convince each other that it is the right choice. My husband becomes the voice of reason in this instances, but shhh don't tell him.
I have noticed changes, and it's kind of interesting. The friends I lean on, well they now are in real life. They don't have to live in my computer, they can ( when I am not sick) stop on by. These friends, the give and the take is a two way street. They also happen to be older and a better judge of character then I, they also tend to be more like I am too old for this shit, leave the drama at the door, and these are the people I need to model life skills for me.
It lead me to another thought, am I an old soul? Do I know more things, because being poor teaches you things you didn't think you would learn? Have I been through more shit then most? Do I really belong in any circle? Why are they friends with me?
I'm not really sure of the answers to these questions. I eventually will figure them out. What I got from this line of questioning though lead me to a different realization. These questions are far more deeper then the questions I used to ask about the people I cut out.
Do you know what it's like constantly trying to fix yourself to try and meet this mold of what you think someone wants you to be? Do you know what it is like to try and fix someone else? Do you know how much energy you put into relationships like that?
I do, and this is where the three strike rule came into play. It's amazing to know you have the control to cut people out who don't do shit to make your life better. I am that ride or die friend, when I go in, oh I am all in and I ride that out till it kills my soul. Now, though, I am still ride or die, but I am learning it doesn't have to be at the cost of my soul.
Throughout the year in therapy we have been working on boundaries, relationships and how to make those two work. I developed a three strike rule, third strike and you are out. This was to save me from the ever turbulent waters of navigating life with other people.
I suck at relationships, I push the wrong people away, and let in the words of my mom " energy sucking vampires" in. I have never known balance in relationships, personality disorders and PTSD gives a pretty skewed version of life. So I came with the three strike rule, show me your heart is ugly three times, and you are out. I think it's fair, and let me tell you it has been a life changing rule.
Over the course of the year, the whole year, this has come into play a few times. I tell myself to stand firm in this new rule, because well how many more chances do I need to give a person to show me they are ugly? Three is more then plenty, but I doubt myself because well I can't run away from the monster in my head, so we have to convince each other that it is the right choice. My husband becomes the voice of reason in this instances, but shhh don't tell him.
I have noticed changes, and it's kind of interesting. The friends I lean on, well they now are in real life. They don't have to live in my computer, they can ( when I am not sick) stop on by. These friends, the give and the take is a two way street. They also happen to be older and a better judge of character then I, they also tend to be more like I am too old for this shit, leave the drama at the door, and these are the people I need to model life skills for me.
It lead me to another thought, am I an old soul? Do I know more things, because being poor teaches you things you didn't think you would learn? Have I been through more shit then most? Do I really belong in any circle? Why are they friends with me?
I'm not really sure of the answers to these questions. I eventually will figure them out. What I got from this line of questioning though lead me to a different realization. These questions are far more deeper then the questions I used to ask about the people I cut out.
Do you know what it's like constantly trying to fix yourself to try and meet this mold of what you think someone wants you to be? Do you know what it is like to try and fix someone else? Do you know how much energy you put into relationships like that?
I do, and this is where the three strike rule came into play. It's amazing to know you have the control to cut people out who don't do shit to make your life better. I am that ride or die friend, when I go in, oh I am all in and I ride that out till it kills my soul. Now, though, I am still ride or die, but I am learning it doesn't have to be at the cost of my soul.
Comments
Post a Comment