“Life is a succession of lessons, which must be lived to be understood.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’ve been crying myself to sleep for weeks now and have only
just begun to question why. In fact, I was only able to admit yesterday that I’m
sad. Now that I’ve been reflecting on it, it’s not surprising because I’ve
invested so little in my own emotional well-being; and I’m not the only one
that knows that, my closest friends recognize my tendency to always put others
first. I had to ask myself a multitude of questions yesterday, each one almost
always leading to another before I found the root of the issue: rejection.
One of the definitions for rejection is ‘to discard as
useless or unsatisfactory’. That has always been my personal view of self when
I experience rejection. Reflecting over this last year, I’ve experienced a good
deal of rejection; and now it makes sense to me that I could only sum up this past year as difficult
and am happy to see it go.
I have an on and off again rejective relationship with my adoptive mother – one who is constantly pushing and pulling. I’m fine with the pushing, not so much the pulling; because I know that her current state of kindness towards me is flippant and fleeting and I know it’s only a matter of time before she tries to wound me again. Also the rejection I feel over her blatant favoritism.
I have an on and off again rejective relationship with my adoptive mother – one who is constantly pushing and pulling. I’m fine with the pushing, not so much the pulling; because I know that her current state of kindness towards me is flippant and fleeting and I know it’s only a matter of time before she tries to wound me again. Also the rejection I feel over her blatant favoritism.
I felt consistently rejected during my stint with online
dating and generally frustrated when I continually met awful people. Of the handful
of dates that did go well (or at least I thought they did), I either never
heard from them again, or there would be several more dates followed by him
distancing himself from me. The
rejection hurt and the frustration of someone unwilling to tell me they’re no
longer interested rather than forcing me to ask instead of wondering what went
wrong made me want to hurl things at times. For the record, I never threw
anything – but it probably would have been very cathartic . . . . Perhaps I should start throwing things.
Pillows in my apartment and rocks in nature beware! Your days are numbered.
I felt rejected recently when the position I was gunning for
went to the other candidate. Once again I felt useless and unsatisfactory. A person
in another division suggested I apply and I put so much effort into doing my research
on the higher ups in the division and mentally preparing myself for interviews. The processed involved several and I nailed every single one. What it boiled down to in the end is that the other person had more experience than me.
There is a consistent feeling of rejection when the manager plays favorites in the office. The latter form of rejection just angers me, so I’m struggling to ignore it entirely. My guess is that I’m only struggling with ignoring it because it’s consistently shoved in my face. Every. Single. Workday.
There is a consistent feeling of rejection when the manager plays favorites in the office. The latter form of rejection just angers me, so I’m struggling to ignore it entirely. My guess is that I’m only struggling with ignoring it because it’s consistently shoved in my face. Every. Single. Workday.
This seems oddly fitting: Turn away green fish with your different social background, ideals and outlook!
My most recent rejection hurt the most. I’m still processing
the emotions, and there are many. I spent too much time with a friend and had
far too many communicative interactions when he wasn’t physically with me. I began
to love him and knew it just wouldn’t
be. Unfortunately, there’s just no ‘off’ button for these sorts of things, at
least as far as I know. I knew he was emotionally vulnerable and dealing with
his own form of pain and I never took advantage of his trust or that situation.
I never made a move and didn’t reveal my feelings until he badgered me into
speaking the words that had been on my heart. I didn't expect him to love me back and I knew he wouldn't. Of course I was rejected and I knew I would be which is why I never
wanted him to know. I felt both cornered and vulnerable during our discussion; I loathe those feelings.
Now I don’t want anything to do with him. I don’t know if that’s the hurt of rejection speaking right now or that deep down I know any connection with him will only lead to major damage to my own emotional well-being. It could even be that I don't want him to see because I may very well burst into tears the moment I see his face or that it's highly likely things will never just go back to the way they were. All I know now is that I feel hurt in a very visceral way. It’s been pulsing through my veins ever since we had that conversation. It is very unpleasant and I do not like it. Granted, I was hurting long before that, but was in major denial and this experience has amplified the painful feelings.
Now I don’t want anything to do with him. I don’t know if that’s the hurt of rejection speaking right now or that deep down I know any connection with him will only lead to major damage to my own emotional well-being. It could even be that I don't want him to see because I may very well burst into tears the moment I see his face or that it's highly likely things will never just go back to the way they were. All I know now is that I feel hurt in a very visceral way. It’s been pulsing through my veins ever since we had that conversation. It is very unpleasant and I do not like it. Granted, I was hurting long before that, but was in major denial and this experience has amplified the painful feelings.
I kept my feelings to myself because I didn't want to lose the friendship. That now seems like a pointless endeavor.
“I know love is a fading thing just as fickle as a feather in a stream.
See, honey, I saw love. You see it came to me. It put its face up to my face so
I could see. Yeah then I saw love disfigure me into something I am not
recognizing.” – Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
It is a rare person in this world that can get me to open up
to them entirely and it is even rarer for me to genuinely love another
romantically. I didn’t know what hit me when I felt it for the first time at
the age of 28. Everything up until then was suddenly child’s play. Reflecting on
those two encounters with a deep form of love in my life, it’s fairly obvious to me that I’m attracted
to the broken. I don’t know if it starts out by my desire to help someone
through a tough time in life due to my compassionate nature or if there’s something psychologically deeper
than what I see on the surface of which I need to find the root cause and work
through it.
My mantra for the new year: I will not love broken things. Unless it's the hound; he deserves all the love in the world.
For me, experiencing any emotion on a deep level is usually comparable
to stirring a pot of stew where the ingredients surface that were previously
hidden below. My past experiences come to surface and the emotions attached to
those experiences come to surface as well. I feel the rejection of abandonment
by a caregiver’s words and deeds, or those taken by death. I feel the emotional rejection
that I experienced by many caregivers growing up. I know deep down there’s a
little girl in there somewhere who wants nothing more than to be loved and
accepted. For a period of time in my life I was so desperate for those things
that I didn’t care what my source was – even if the person was abusive,
even if I only used some form of self-medicating just so I didn’t have to feel
the emptiness.
There is no quick fix. In the words of Rumi (paraphrased): Experience the pain to find the remedy
Once again I’m crossing the face of the mountain I’m
climbing in my attempt to work through these issues. For the last few days, I’ve
been letting myself feel, regardless of how unpleasant those feelings are.
Consequently, I’m crying much more when I’m alone. I have become so accustomed to shoving my emotions
down and showing the world at least a calm face if not a smile that I just don’t
know how to stop. I keep trying, yet I keep finding myself pushing those
feelings as far down as I can because I don’t want anyone to know how badly
they’ve wounded me, how disappointed I am, or how much I’m hurting in general.
I’ve never been one for New Year’s resolutions. This year
will be different. I’m making a few commitments to myself this time around.
2015 will begin with rejection. I am rejecting the entire year of 2014 and
probably finding some ceremonious way to say goodbye to it and all of the events
that took place within the course of this year. I’ll be giving myself some emotional space to allow
myself to process the things that I keep shoving back in the recesses of my
psyche. That will probably entail more crying and possibly hurling objects
about. So be it. Here's to better days ahead.
This will be another mantra.