Becoming, Lucy

I’m going to call myself a liar.

I was going to start this the same way I start every entry lately, that I can’t write, that I don’t know what to write about. But the truth is, I have been avoiding writing and feeling.

I have been so busy with life that I just refused to let myself sit down and feel anything or process anything. Avoiding the hard shit as per usual. I’ve kept myself purposely numb so I don’t crash out but now that life has slowed down a little, I am inevitably on the edge of crashing out (seriously, you should see my notes app, it’s a steady spiral over the last week).

Also, I had a realisation that I don’t trust myself, my own voice. I don’t trust the words that come out of my own mouth and I’m not sure why. Or I don’t think my voice is worthy of being heard. Or I’m scared of being perceived. I’m still trying to figure out which one… Probably all three.

I think a lot of it is self-worth.

I am not worthy. Of being listened to. Of being understood properly… Of being loved.

I learned that belief somewhere along the way, and it stuck.

Admitting that out loud… It breaks my heart. I wish I could say I don’t believe it, that it isn’t true – that of course I am worthy. Because if someone I loved said those words out loud to me, I’d tell them of all the ways they are worthy… Hell, if a stranger said that out loud to me I’d probably go to lengths to make them realise they are worthy too. So why the fuck don’t I think I am?

And if I admit that I don’t think I am worthy to those that love me, what would they think of me? “God, she’s broken.” Or would I just make them uncomfortable? Or would they also try go to lengths to tell me I am worthy whilst I sit there uncomfortably and nod along awkwardly?

It’s easier to believe that I am not worthy of love because if I am rejected then at least it’s easier to soothe the wound with ‘I was never worthy anyway’ than risk someone else deciding that for me.

Within my notes I also wrote about how I don’t know who I am and I’m never sure what I mean by that when that sentence slips out of me. I just feel like I’m coasting through life pretending. Living a narrative that wasn’t made by me. I keep trying to convince myself that these are things I want to do, but nothing lasts long and I don’t get true happiness from it. At least I don’t think I do.

Honestly, I’ve been feeling lonely. No one understands or will understand. Family or friends, they just don’t get this situation I am in. It isn’t easy this co-parenting shit – still being friendly with your ex but also holding onto a dislike for them because of their actions. I am lonely within myself. I have silenced the part of me that wants to speak out about the way I was treated. I’ve been telling myself I’m being the bigger person by keeping shit private but I’ve not spoken to him about it either. But again, it’s to keep the peace.

I keep telling myself I’m being the bigger person, but really I’m just silencing myself so no one has to deal with my truth. So no one can label me as weak, dramatic, bitter… The one who couldn’t make it work. But towards the end, I became the person who stopped bringing up conversations because I knew how’d they end, because it was easier than being dismissed again.

I learned how to keep the peace by abandoning myself. I stopped telling him how I felt. I stopped trying to connect. I stopped trying to make my voice heard.

Am I just abandoning myself again? By not writing? By avoiding telling the people who love me how I really feel? By just agreeing with my ex and doing things to appease him when it comes to the kids? By staying quiet when he disappoints me and the kids? By not allowing myself to feel? By not giving people the chance to understand me?

The fear of being misunderstood isn’t new. It echoes past situations with different people – I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist to figure that one out. I’m scared of being perceived incorrectly to the point where I feel dismissed so I silence myself because it’s easier. I don’t want to seem weak. Or like all I do is think my life is shit.

Silencing myself is such a fucking cop out and makes me so angry at myself. I keep silencing myself even when I’m suffocating. I choose my own pain rather than letting anyone else feel uncomfortable. I stayed and abandoned myself. And I continue to abandon myself. Consciously.

“I am not worthy of love therefore everything I have written above is a pointless endeavour and should be deleted.” – A line written by me in the final part of my crash out. But I’m not sure that version is true anymore because staying silent never worked either so maybe it isn’t pointless after all.