🗄️ The X-Files (Part 3): Letting Go

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I realized something today, actually—which you can read about in [ Andromeda’s Journal]—but the greatest anchors in our lives are the ones that we force ourselves to carry.

Worry. Fear. Anger. Sadness.

When is the last time you looked at something and LET yourself FEEL HAPPY?

That, combined with my real-life knowledge that happiness isn’t ACTUALLY a feeling the way the others are—it’s a choice. It’s acceptance. It’s living your best self, even if that person is crazy, weird, different, or a jerk. (Yeah, if that’s who they want to be, and that’s how THEY are happy... cool. I just find that sooo unbelievable.) But as a wise friend recently said to me:

“Not my Monkey, Not my Circus.”

I guess I could look at it all and stay sad that people disappointed me (as I have been for way too long now), or I can choose ME and just let that be my only care. Me, my kids of course, and others who I’m close to—you know, the ones who stood by me through trauma. I actually have a Discord Squad and well... really? Just so much LIFE around me.

That is what two days of writing this blog, building a safe place, and doing what I know is best for ME has done.

IN TWO DAYS.

I feel stupid for not doing this earlier, and BOY do I hate feeling stupid. I actually corrected myself today: I’m FUCKING STUBBORN.

🤯 The Irony of Closure

Want to hear some crazy irony that is going to blow your mind? What made me able to snap out of it and realize what I needed to do?

“X”.

He sent me a message full of answers to so many questions. Not in the ways you would think, but I HEARD what he was saying, and I know what he means, and I’m not questioning him, and I’m not angry. The message was… nice, helpful, and one I wish he would have sent sooner.

He’ll never understand the pain he could have saved me, but what does that matter? He got past it his way—leaving it “shattered”—while I was, at one point before he ‘discarded’ me, making video messages because I believed our miscommunication was because he was ‘reading my texts wrong.’

CLEARLY DESPERATE.

And I wasn’t ‘WRONG’ about that either. It’s amazing how the mind works. I was actually doing the same thing, so it was a recipe for disaster.

I would read phrases, and because of 25 years of being married, I would apply the ‘behavioral’ aspect that I knew to the words. But the behavior and where the words were coming from were from two entirely different people.

It’s WILD how both he and I did this. It was clear when one would get upset, clearly feeling misunderstood or attacked—or sometimes in his case, badly. When he felt badly he could get very emotional. It’s a big reason why I think I was always so drawn to him, why he was my best friend. Because deep down inside, there was this light and passion that was INCREDIBLE.

Unfortunately, he’s his own worst enemy. He doesn’t see himself that way, nor does he have the faith in himself to ever be able to achieve it. Also? He’s tired. He doesn’t even realize he’s in survival mode — and likely been there most of his life.

Yeah. Been there too......

What I know is that it can’t matter to me anymore, because I have to do what I do...

because I’m miserable.

💔 Accepting the "Shattered" Reality

In that recent message, he said: "I had to painfully accept we can’t co-exist."

He’s right. He had that quality about him—another thing that I always valued—he had an ability to just say real shit, sometimes, when he was at whatever ‘emotional distance’ made him comfortable I suppose.

My daddy issues always making me ‘hear’ males better? The way “X” would just ask me a few questions and straighten my head’s knots out, it was like a lightbulb went off and it would put me right back on track.

But not after what we did.

Everything was so emotional. It was ruined. All of it, no matter what, it’s ruined—and he said that too. And for the first time in my life, I realize he’s right in this TOO.

It’s SO BROKEN. It doesn’t HAVE to be, but where we are at?

No way.

It wouldn’t even matter if I were willing, because he’s not going to do what he needs to do in order to understand himself. Meanwhile, that’s all I’ve been doing for 3 years.

WHY? HOW? WTF. Those are the questions I asked myself repeatedly.

Bittersweet really, like something that should be added to the [ Anatomy of My Anger].

He’s only right because I don’t believe he’d be strong enough to actually heal himself—especially in his environment. He doesn’t want to hear it. He’s ‘FINE’ I’m sure, with exactly who he is. I mean, if he isn't, why wouldn’t someone change?

🧠 Processing to Heal vs. Processing to Bury

That’s the importance of processing to heal vs. processing to compartmentalize and bury, I guess.

Having the strength to see yourself is the greatest courage I think anyone can show. It’s damn well the hardest thing that I have ever done. To want to heal—to want to be a better person—is a choice.

Happiness isn’t getting what you want. Happiness is being happy accepting what you have.

I can’t have people in my atmosphere after working through something this extreme over 3 years that don’t have goals aligned with my life.

So he’s right. And unlike so many people who have experiences like mine? I finally got my closure.

🚩 The Dismissive Avoidant Reality

At least for him. And that’s something I have learned: Dismissive Avoidants are actually incredibly selfish, but they don’t see it that way. They do ‘nice things’—and unlike the lovebombing of narcissists, Dismissive Avoidants are doing it because they care. Or you make them feel good, maybe. Or they are high on the dopamine of the beginning stages, before shit gets real.

But it’s not about YOU. It’s about how it makes them ‘FEEL’ to do it.

What they don’t understand is that most times, this kind of behavior is a sign of feeling ‘lacking’ in SOME area.

• I know he felt I deserved more of his time.

• I know he felt that I didn’t get ‘proper attention.’

But when the shit got real and emotions grew? I felt it IMMEDIATELY.

I actually told my kids: FUCK. I did it again. Because yeah, it’s not my first time at THIS rodeo actually. People experience intense waves of emotions in a very, emotionally vulnerable, close manner when interacting with me.

I’m a lovable person, I guess. Type Shit. I don’t know? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I blame my confidence and my belief in myself. I’m ‘easy on the eyes’ (or at least was in my prime). I’m smart and self-educated, and secure in who I am.

Or…. At least I was.