Pause in Pursuit

So yesterday I went to see the Matrix Therapist for the first time in a couple of weeks. For those of you that are new to 2HT, I call her that because of our first meeting:

MT: I have this sticker on my car that says, “There is no spoon.” You know what I mean?

Me: Did you just quote from the fucking Matrix?!

MT: (smiling) Yes.

Me: We’re gonna get along juuuuust fine.

She’s been the Matrix Therapist ever since.

Once again, I entered that office – complete with stylish shoji screen – in full-blown crisis mode. All the shit I’m juggling right now overrides my need to get down to the nitty gritty of my real problems. We’re sticking corks in the dam, so to speak, before we get to actually repairing the fucking dam. Every time. For a while now.

I’ve had a number of setbacks in recent months. Many, actually. Things I can’t talk about here. Or won’t, whatever. Let’s just say that I thought I was a rather good judge of people. I’ve always prided myself on reading people really, really well. And I’ve taken several blows of late that make me question everything I think I know. Am I actually any good at judging people? I’m shaky on that answer right now. And just to be safe, I’m not talking about any one person here. This is about my reality, not anyone else’s.

My point is that when trust is an issue between two people, the whole relationship is under heavy scrutiny. And that, to me, is nerve-wracking. This is only one thing I’m dealing with right now, albeit on multiple fronts. I’m stressed, on the border of Freaking The Fuck Out, because I’m putting MYSELF under heavy scrutiny.

Again, I thought I was good at judging people. Now, not so sure. This is a crucial issue for me, monumental even.

MT: Why are you beating yourself down over these things?

Me: What are you talking about?

MT: You’re saying that you’ve been disappointed and let down by people.

Me: Yes, exactly.

MT: So why are you putting the blame on you by saying you’re not a good judge of character?

Me: I’m no–huh.

MT: As if you’re not smart enough to see it coming.

Me: Well…right.

MT: Why is it your fault, when it’s them that did what they did?

Me: It’s…not?

MT: We all get fooled, Karl. Especially those of us that choose to see the best in people.

Me: Yeah. (sigh)

MT: It’s not a question of how smart you are.

Me: Yeah. (sigh)

As usual, I take on far too much, including the blame. And the shame. And the problems, other people’s problems.

Call me an empath, or a “fixer,” or a good listener. All those things apply to me, I suppose, at one time or another. The point is, when I’m your friend, I am pretty loyal and trusting. I try to help, offer good counsel. I expect big things of the people I choose to keep around me: honesty, trust, and accountability. Well, the trust part really comes as a result of the honesty and accountability, but you get what I’m saying.

I guess what I’m talking about here is that I’m quick to take on shit that isn’t mine. I get invested in things I have no business being invested in. And I’m lightning-fast at slapping myself any chance I get, and I don’t mean in a happy-slapping-my-monkey kinda way, either.

That needs to stop.

The other big realization that came to me through therapizing…

I’m growing and changing. I’m doing things I’m not used to; therefore, they are uncomfortable.

I’m going to feel uncomfortable a lot for a while. It’s like they say: if you’ve been sitting on a pile of shit your whole life, then that’s what you know, and that’s what your comfortable with. Anything else, as bizarre as it may seem, is going to be uncomfortable because it’s outside your Comfort Zone.

This came to me because I talked to the MT about how I HATE confrontation. I’m a Smoother-Outer kinda guy. I learned to be funny at a very early age. It helped greatly to calm the waters when my parents were fighting. Helped for most any conflict, really. Kept me from getting my ass kicked by bullies on more than one occasion…and I got a lot of ass-kicking.

I’m anger-phobic. I’ll do most anything to avoid an argument.

MT: You’re not confronting. You’re setting boundaries.

Me: Well, the effect is the same. I dread it.

MT: You dread saying what you want, or need?

Me: I dread the confron…the conversations.

MT: It’s uncomfortable.

Me: Yeah. Why is it uncomfortable for me to stand up for myself?

MT: You’re  not used to it. You’re used to taking on everyone’s stuff. You’re used to being the problem-solver, to keeping everyone happy.

Me: Yeah.

MT: For everyone but yourself.

Me: Yeah. Wait, what?

So yeah, it was like that.

Last night, I felt something so alien it may as well have burst out of my chest while I was eating my General Tso’s chicken. I don’t know who the fuck General Tso is, but he makes some damn fine chicken.

That alien entity? Just might have been…peace. It’s hard to say, it’s not something I’ve felt often enough to recognize.

There’s peace in letting go. Platitudes, corny as they may be to us now, are still true. There’s a peace in letting go of something and telling myself, “That’s not mine any more. I’m getting rid of it.”

Or perhaps it’s just me sighing in exhaustion from hanging onto that shit for so long.

Either way, the effect is the same.