Relationships and Rescue

My name is Cristina D. Johnson.

Today, as I was helping my son out, I drove past exit 7 and then exit 10. It was bittersweet - my former home. The two main exits. On the way back from Middletown, I cried as I passed them again, but I quickly wiped the tears away, refusing to be hurt.

"That's kinda normal," Michelle (my therapist) told me later. "That's pain. That's anger. That's part of grieving."

I started to cry.

I think I started to cry because a part of me never wants to admit I ever loved him. Good riddance. You were no good for me. You sucked. Etc. It's so much easier to be angry.

But once you get to the tender spots, the pain is there.

I had a heavy session today and it left me feeling kind of drained, berating myself...angry at myself, questioning myself and every relationship I've ever had of all time.

I have to say this is hard - this is hard for me to write. Hard for me to admit to and one of those things that I haven't yet had the chance to ponder. That's the problem (or has been the problem) with this whole "healing process": things are so crazy and out of whack and there's so much to do that when I have one of these spellbinding, earth-rattling, nerve-cracking, tear-jerking sessions, I don't have time to sit on it and really reflect because I'm so worried about everything and everyone else.

So I'm writing about it here, being painfully honest.

We (Michelle and I) talked about Gary and Bill.

When I went into my relationship with Gary, I'd expected something different than what I got. We didn't always have bad times. Sometimes, we "got" each other and those were really magical moments. Sometimes....sometimes it was a beautiful thing. One time in particular, it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever experienced in my life (he'd know what I'm talking about but it's too personal to go into). My point is, that it wasn't always that bad, although it was always unstable.

I had a picture of Gary in my mind; a picture he put there, the day we met. I thought, "He's the one. I could do this. I could spend my life with this man because he'll teach me things. We'll go to museums and operas and plays...." I truly loved him. I still do in a far away, aching place. In the most authentic part of me, I want nothing but happiness and peace for him.

I idealized him, as Michelle said.

Now, she says, I demonize him.

I suppose there's some cognitive truth to that, although I have my own little pocket of broken secrets in my heart....utter pain and disbelief. I'm still so crushed, so hurt. I cry now, because of the deliberate nature of some of what happened.

"Maybe it wasn't deliberate," Michelle offered. "Insensitive, cruel, cold, callous? Yes. But deliberate? Maybe not."

I argued this - pointed to several things that were done that were deliberately hurtful. So painful.

Then the conversation turned to Bill. I sighed a heavy sigh.

Bill and I dated for three years. He was always good to me, always. Consistent, charming, loving, affectionate, passionate, honest, loyal.

We split up because we valued our friendship - that was in 2006 - and remained roommates and best friends. In 2007, I started dating Gary.

I told Michelle how it seemed like no time had passed when I most recently saw Bill. Same Bill, same friend, same everything, except a little stronger and a little more driven.

"What's wrong with Bill," she asked? I had a hard time coming up with an answer.

She proved her point.....

The black-and-white view I have of relationships and how it's always, always, always been that way: demonize or idealize. There is no gray.

This pains me. It hurts me so much because now I feel like I'm broken somewhere and I don't know how it happened or what caused it and I just feel like a total fuck-up. I looked back at the relationships in my life and it's always been that way - even with (I cringe to admit) my own son, Tony.

I told her about when I ran away - I was 11 when I hit the streets; 12 when I hit the truck stops - and somehow in my mind, I thought (even at that tender age) "I don't know what I'm looking for but I know I'll know it when I find it...and I know it'll be in a man."

Through every rape and beating, I believed something would happen and magically, somehow, this person hurting me would stop and realize what they were doing and realize - yes, I need rescuing, not beating, not rape, not abuse or neglect or judgment. Somehow this man would love me.

All my life...and I cry here now, sitting here, thinking about all the black-and-white relationships, all the idealizations and all the demonizations....Oh I'm so sorry.... I didn't know.

Yet I can't take all the blame. Or can I?

Like a record, playing in my head, "What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you?"

Oh this hurts to admit.... this hurts. This hurts to own and it hurts not to know what to think or do or say or believe. I don't even know what to believe. Can't even trust myself. How can I trust myself?

How many people have I hurt? Certainly there are those who've hurt me, but how many people have I unintentionally hurt by my idealizations and vilifying?

And at the same time there's this part of me that argues that I have a sort of old-fashioned part that wants to be a caretaker - I can cook and clean and do laundry. I can do all those things. I can "mother" and I don't mind it - I'm good at it. I'll show you....I'll show you I'm worthy....

Of being rescued?

Maybe?

For you - Gary - It's not all your fault. I loved you so much. I believed in you, perhaps too much and I'm sorry for that. But you also hurt me, so deeply. Perhaps not deliberately, as Michelle pointed out, but God... now I'm lost. I don't even trust myself.

For you, Bill - my best friend ever - I love you and I am so grateful to you and for you. I am afraid.

For you, Cindy - I've marveled at your wisdom and insights these past few months and I've needed the validation you've given me.

For you, Ron - Thank you....you know for what.

My head is spinning. I am so confused and I hurt. I hurt deep in my heart. I feel like such a failure. Like why didn't I catch this? Why didn't I know this? I could have fixed this? I could have been far ahead of the game if only I knew this about myself..... why? Why? WHY?

It's the same thing I've done my entire life.... (ugh I hate this part): waiting to be rescued.