Resentment is one of the most toxic things for the human mind and I’m notorious for holding on. For years I have struggled to find a path to accepting and forgiving the things that don’t go my way. It’s been an ongoing process of discomfort and failure.
I had to let go of the idea that things could have been any different than they were, for one thing. A lot of my struggle comes from running the past over in my head and trying to identify what I could have done differently to see an outcome aligned with what I would have preferred. There are measurable benefits to assessing experiences to learn from them going forward but there is no benefit when I spend hours dwelling on things that are over and done.
It helps to remind myself that it didn’t go another way and it couldn’t have. It helps to remind myself that there are things at play that are out of my hands.
I’ve been having a hard time recently because I feel I’ve asked for very bare minimum effort and accountability and I’ve repeatedly been met with nothing but abject refusal. I’ve been living in this state of complete frustration as I’ve been reflecting on the hundreds of thousands of times my voice could have been taken at face value instead of becoming some kind of escalating power struggle. I have been livid because it’s repeatedly more important to put me in my place than it is to be a thoughtful and cautious person who makes informed decisions where precious cargo is concerned.
No matter what I say or how I say it I just end up in the same place. Fifteen years ago as much as right now. I’ve held mounting frustration because my voice has been ignored and silenced.
A person can only hold that anger so long.
There is nothing about my experience that can be invalidated. I did speak up and I did get silenced. I tried in earnest to explain my position and I was most consistently shot down.
A million times over he had the opportunity to do differently. That’s true and it is upsetting.
As many times as he chose to flex and prove he was superior, I chose to expect he’d react anew. We talk about this in recovery mode quite often. It’s called a “mental blind spot”.
Each time I reached for a substance I told myself it was just going to be once. Every time I used cocaine I lost the plot and all control yet somehow I wholeheartedly believed I would “be okay this time”.
For twenty one years now I’ve been trying to pass on vital information about emotions and the effect certain actions can have on a person. Each time I did it as though it was going to be heard. Each time I did it as though it would be honoured or considered at all.
Each time I try to call attention to something hurtful it’s like I have selective amnesia and forget all the pain he has inflicted without an ounce of remorse or empathy.
The progression of taking ownership of my own resentment is one of being honest with myself. I could remain frustrated with the situation being exactly as it always has been for the entirety of my days. That’s one route to take.
In another world, though, I can direct my own attention to the expectation I’m holding onto. When I think about the part of this misery that I create and hold onto? It looks a lot like consistently pretending people are more thoughtful than they actually are. My frustration is more about believing that better behaviour is coming.
I don’t have any evidence of that being the case and it’s okay for me to admit that. It’s okay to stop asking for better now. It’s okay to let go of the responsibility I’ve been holding over it.
We all get choices in this life but we aren’t all blessed enough to see them clearly. We aren’t all looking for the same outcomes, either.
At some point you have to let a track record speak for itself. At some point you have to accept mediocrity for what it’s worth. No matter how much hope you may have been holding.
Sometimes “someday” just doesn’t come.
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