The rage is almost unbearable
I want to scream till I am spent
Childhood lessons:
refining sensitivities to others, anticipate the needs to keep the peace, prove my worth.
Do not ask, do not demand, it is selfish, you are not worthy to ask so much.
Adult lessons:
I taught you how to treat me. She is kind, giving, forgiving and hardly asks for a thing, we love her.
But when she does she’s needy, an emotional sucking hole that has the audacity to want to be first. Know your place.
The rage ( at self) comes from trying to change and loosing out when I’m no longer suitable. The rage ( outwards) comes from not being considered, from not having someone, anyone anticipate how tender I am and how I might be affected. The disgust I feel ( at self) for this ridiculous notion and foolish hope.
The sadness and exhaustion comes from knowing what saved me in childhood can be dangerous to me in my adult life if I am not careful, also knowing that my empathic skill can still be a superpower.
Rage at seeing the cycle, more rage at the seemingly inability to break it meaningfully. Disgust knowing I can not demand to hold value with others until I hold value within. Frustration knowing my self worth has been dependent for so long on how others need me.
She beats her fists against the glass and still insists she’s a valid lass
Standing Still at the Speed of Light 