What do you do when someone refuses to acknowledge your pain?
I am told to walk away from anything that no longer serves me. Because it is certain that a person who is focused on themselves cannot be concerned with what I need. In the past I have been known to compromise my self worth in order to protect another person’s sensitivities. Lying through brittle teeth and losing the ability to face reality. It is easy to fall into routine and drag yourself forward because your heart is afraid of change. We blame others for our foggy vision when we are the only ones responsible for our productiveness everyday. Every single morning I wake up by God’s grace and set my feet on the ground. I get out of the comfort of my bed in total darkness because when I rise, the sun is not yet awake. I push my disappointment and frustration to the back of my mind and sacrifice sulking in my grief because I know there is another human being counting on me. I can be wrecked and broken on the inside, but this does not absolve me of my responsibilities.
It is not about me. It is not about my issues or the fact that I allowed myself to hope for forgiveness and grace. It is not about how no one seems to acknowledge my pain. I am met with silence and blank expressions when it takes two to make the same mistakes. We wander in circles because there are two heads in the wrong place. It should have been easy to commit to the cause and stay on mission in pursuit of the things we want.
But excuses are the only thing consistent when you are running.
Nothing about fighting for a purpose is easy, especially when you have a long and difficult history with someone. We want everything handed to us without putting in the work. We push away the ugly parts of people and retreat when things do not go right. Forgetting that we too have parts that we try to hide from the light. We believe we can choose differently even though our soul is in agony. Fighting against other people’s opinions and ideas about what we should do and who we should be.
I ask questions when the answers are clear–blaring at me in a neon yellow display.
It takes two to work together, but only one to walk away.
I am sure there are people out there who are more tired than me. People who spend their entire days making sure others are okay and have nothing at the end to show for it. I wish it were easier to empathize with another person’s pain. To place my heart and soul knee deep in their situation. I wish I could say I am not selfish and that my intentions are always honorable. But sometimes I can only worry about me.
Today, my wishes and thoughts and plans are interrupted by the reality that other people are going through it too. It is easy to desire forgiveness and reconciliation when you aren’t the one who is hurting. But there is always more to consider in the story.
I’ve mourned disgracefully in the past. Gave up everything I had because I felt like I could not go on without the “thing” I wanted. Even now, I find myself slipping into a cloudy disposition. The more I try to walk forward, the harder it is to see.
The only person fighting is me.
I’ve lived this truth for far too long. Trying to be better and commit and take steps to be transparent. It is not easy for me to give my all. I look for patience and understanding. I seek empathy for this mutual suffering, but all I ever hit is a stubborn brick wall. We could agree to disagree on what it means to fight, but a person who continuously abandons you at your worst is not only selfish–they are a detriment to your life.
Should I, continue to resist this silence?
Is the thing I am pushing for even good for me?
I wish I could figure out all the answers.
But my head is far too heavy.
There will always be a part of me
that is resistant to change.
But the truth is so much harder to ignore
when you keep making the same mistakes.
Doubt trickles into my subconscious.
I want better, but I am a prisoner
to my current state.
Afraid to exercise patience, self-control
and most of all, release.
Captive to desires that are
more interested in fighting than peace.
No one can exist in two alternate planes.
You are either working towards a purpose
or passively remaining the same.
We are terrible at taking steps away from grief.
Hard-hearted lovers who no longer believe.
Terrible when truth keeps us chained to our pain.
When we have no other option, but to walk away.
Twitter – @jen__cosby
Instagram – @jen.cosby
You are beautiful. Created with a purpose although you never had a plan to be anything more than loved. Shattered in ways that no one should ever have to experience. It pains me to admit that you too, have broken others and spread grief through your lack of understanding. Pushed the kindest person away because love was such a foreign concept for you. It always seemed just out of reach. Like a student in a classroom and no one stood up to teach. How can you want love when you do not know where love begins? How do you keep your head up when facing a familiar end?
You just keep going they say. Take it one day at a time. Although, you are so close to permanently losing your mind. But if you want something different. If you pray for something more. Then you have to believe that it is worth fighting for.
Sometimes that fight means it’s just you, keeping the peace. Sometimes the hurt you inflict will force people to leave. This does not mean you are unworthy. It does not mean you will always be alone. But sometimes you have to get comfortable doing the work, on your own.
Never mind they said they would never leave you. Promises are broken everyday. Understand that people who are similarly broken may not believe you can change.
It’s not about what they believe. Some people will give you up in a fight.
It’s about you doing the best that you can, until you finally get it right.
We separate by force. Distance keeps us at arms bay.
But I know I’ll crave your embrace in these coming days.
I wonder if your peace still lies with me.
Can you even sleep?
Or is your heart at rest knowing the best part is over?
And all that remains is effort given in vain.
Most people give up too quickly.
Doubt consumes courage.
Love grows sour.
And interest steadily declines.
I continue to hope for you.
Pray you’re at your best.
Even if at the end of things,
I don’t express much clearly.
I refused to be consistent because
I never wanted you to depend on me.
I mirrored your habits.
Became someone less…
But I digress.
I just want your heart
to be at rest.
Perhaps you will not have to brace yourself for impact. We know how all things that are not meant to be end. At the beginning, we are so full of wistful expectation that we fail to see the oncoming doom in all its glory.
You were not meant for me.
I whisper this thought internally, because saying it out loud will force me to accept its reality. If I keep it to myself–maybe we can escape the anger and pain that comes when people disappoint you. Maybe being silent keeps us of ignorant of the truth.
But we both know this isn’t true.
Instead, silence rears its ugly head at the exact moment you need to speak. It glances over restoration and latches onto apathy. Now I do not care to fight anymore or try to make things work when I have given all I’ve got and you sat there unchanging.
Famous for painting pictures that no one else can see.
Pity comes from a place of superiority. You “feel bad” for someone–but fail to see how close you are to your own painful story. I was broken in ways that I will never repeat.
Now all I want is to be set free.
Pull me back to reality. Because as of right now—I have given my whole attention to this alternate universe that only leaves me feeling incomplete. I stand up in my unhappiness, and look around. Seeing the anger and frustration I chose to bury.
Wondering if I will ever find my way back out.
Now, the ground quakes with rage and I know it is only a matter of time before I crumble beneath this pressure of my own doing. Eventually, we all must answer for the raw nerves we neglected to cover. But I am never given the opportunity.
When I am not actively healing, I like to believe I am living in a place where nothing goes wrong. I sleep through the night and spend productive days hoping to “do better” when the chance comes my way. I pick up my cross and carry on.
But I am just as broken as I was last year when I had to accept that I was on my own.
Some nights I dream of the innocent souls I sacrificed for illicit conversation. I think of the crimes I committed when I was unrecognizable to even me. Most people do not try to see the full picture. I am guilty of focusing on the side that favored my parts in the story.
It means nothing to say you will be there, or to pledge allegiance when you do not have to prove yourself. It is easy to believe you are the martyr, when you refuse to acknowledge another person’s scars.
I am guilty of caring too much about other people. And I am guilty of not doing more for my self. But I will set this Earth on fire, before I burn my light out for anyone else.