Last night, I was having another downward spiral and talking through it with my partner. As I worked through the things I felt I needed to say, which included at least three apologies, I realized that the source of this problem was my self esteem.
Because of things I said naturally and in the moment, I could tell that my self esteem about my capabilities has been untouched. However my self esteem about my self worth – as a person in various roles in others’ lives – is in pieces. (Last night, I used the term “shattered,” but that’s overdramatic, and if there’s one thing I got out of therapy, it’s that words matter. Okay, focus.)
I feel like I take more than I give. I feel like I am inflicting myself on others, which is something I said months ago that I wanted to avoid. I feel like the people that give to me – of their time, their attention, their effort, or physical objects – just haven’t yet figured out that I’m not worth the investment.
The logical part of me knows that there must be something false in all of that, because the people (that I’m thinking of here) that choose to be in my life are intelligent, they’re discerning, and I trust their judgment. The emotional part of me, as usual, can’t connect with that because I don’t feel it. And here’s why.
He chose her. The person that I entrusted with the most of myself chose someone else, very intentionally. The person that had my trust for more than two decades discarded me.
Yes, I know he made a stupid-ass decision. I know that it’s a reflection of him and not me. But I can’t help feeling unwanted, unloved, unlovable as a result. And I hate it with every fiber of my being. I get why, but why now?
I think this is coming up because my healing process prioritized other things first, and left this one on the back burner until the other needs were met. And it seems to be working out, because I have come to terms with my self-care, my relationship with food, the need to pay attention to my personal pitfalls because I no longer have a safety net. You know, the things that keep me alive and functioning. So that means I’m making progress, right?
I’m pleased about the indication of progress, but oh my gods, this feeling sucks. I want to get back to a place where I can accept love without questioning it.