I decided to let go and let God in regards to “those two.” Yesterday, I was feeling pressured by others to at least contact them, myself, and tell them I was okay. Like I said, I did not feel comfortable doing that at all. With the help of some recovery folks, I meditated and prayed about all of it. And I felt a lot better. Even good enough to talk about something different (me).
The Universe works quickly. One of those two had been contacting and leaving voice mails for my sister. They were becoming slightly more aggressive. She finally called back and told them I was okay with no more information. Their entire conversation (not my sister’s part) was about them and how they feel and how sick they are and how horrible what I’m doing to them is, and my sister needed to appease them by letting them know where I was. When my sister said no, they continued and kept pushing with the same angle. My sister had to hang up. Her husband was listening, and agreed it was full of manipulation tactics. “I need you to do this so I will feel better.” Classic manipulation statement. I got a text shortly after that from my aunt, who confirmed they were breaking into my duplex and dumping everything in storage “right now.” That they had a cleaning crew come over to clean it. And they changed the locks. And the one sentence that basically sums up the last ten years of my life. “How sad you treated probably the only person who ever helped you your whole life this way.”
The only person…my whole life.
This really was narcissism.
Mind you, I am not ungrateful for what they did do. But what they did also cost me ten years of my life.
When I ruminate on this stuff, lately, like probably the last couple of weeks, I think about things with three questions:
Am I comfortable enough to handle this thing on my own? Have I prayed about it? What would my people do? What, then, should I do?
The last text message I received was at 4:03pm, simply stating, “You make me sick!!!!!!”
What would my people do? All of them have really good boundaries. They’d prolly block them and never look back. I’m a masochist, I guess, because I keep looking. I know why I looked, but not once did I see any kindness at all from them. So I thought “what’s the closest I can do to be like my people?” How can I set a boundary so that I stop looking at these texts? One that I can actually enforce? So I changed my number. This required finding closure with everything. I did that at the meeting tonight.
I prayed, listened to everyone’s shares, and some hit home about my circumstances. Someone’s share included, “You’re going insane over it! Just stop looking at it! Change the channel if you have to, and break the knob off the TV!”
I know that changing my number was the right thing to do. I’m proud of myself for doing that, and I already feel a little more sane.
Additionally, I’ve come down with a head cold. Coworker had it, I started symptoms tonight. Poo.
It’s also my late mom’s birthday. My gift to her this year is choosing to let go of my past completely, so that I can move forward with my life. I know she’d be proud of me right now. I did this for her.
(The topic from tonight: Reading from Page 53 of the AA Big Book:
Logic is great stuff. We liked it. We still like it. It is not by chance we were given the power to reason, to examine the evidence of our senses, and to draw conclusions. That is one of man’s magnificent attributes. We agnostically inclined would not feel satisfied with a proposal which does not lend itself to reasonable approach and interpretation. Hence we are at pains to tell why we think our present faith is reasonable, why we think it more sane and logical to believe than not to believe, why we say our former thinking was soft and mushy when we threw up our hands in doubt and said, “We don’t know.”
When we became alcoholics, crushed by a self-imposed crisis we could not postpone or evade, we had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is everything or else He is nothing. God either is, or He isn’t. What was our choice to be?
Arrived at this point, we were squarely confronted with the question of faith. We couldn’t duck the issue. Some of us had already walked far over the Bridge of Reason toward the desired shore of faith. The outlines and the promise of the New Land had brought lustre to tired eyes and fresh courage to flagging spirits. Friendly hands had stretched out in welcome. We were grateful that Reason had brought us so far. But somehow, we couldn’t quite step ashore. Perhaps we had been leaning too heavily on Reason that last mile and we did not like to lose our support.)