Patterns

Why do we get stuck in patterns we know will end in pain?

Maybe deep down we believe we deserve it. Maybe something has inculcated in us a comfort in agony. Maybe a little bit of both.

I've been reading the Bible a lot lately and there's a reoccurring lesson about not looking back; not going back to things which God has removed from our lives and in theory, it makes sense. Physics says if you're moving backwards, you can't simultaneously move forward. But human nature, it seems, compels us to repeat our bad decisions. Some would argue it's the "Enemy" at work, but I think it's more than that. We become addicted to the pain because without it, we wouldn't know what to do. It's like someone who is chronically ill--there may be cures out there but when they are presented one, they will often reject it because the idea of being without the constant fire burning under their skin is too hard to imagine. They don't know who they would be without it because it has become a function of their personality. I think emotional pain is similar. We throw ourselves from one toxic relationship to the next because we are afraid of what "happiness" feels like. When did that become such a foreign concept for so many of us? How did we become so broken that a healthy, loving relationship is more terrifying than being heartbroken again?

I keep finding myself in the precarious position of putting everything I have into relationships that are a dead end and, although I know better, I jump straight into the deep end. I ignore all the yellow caution tape put up by my loved ones, the "you know how it's going to end"s and the "you're just going to get hurt again"s and dive in, knowing full well the water has been drained and nothing but skull-breaking cement awaits.

It begs the question: how do we guard ourselves when the whole world has told us we are deserving of disappointment? How do we build walls when experience has shown us it's selfish? How do we break the cycle of self-sabotage when it's all we've ever known?

The answer, as cliche as it sounds, is time. It takes practice--like weightlifting. The plates never get any lighter, you just build up the right muscles to be able to carry it better. I was taught, through years of getting myself into the same situations romantically, my "no" is not as important as someone else's "yes" and it's as though "no" has disappeared from my vocabulary. Not entirely, of course. It's just locked away in the annuls of my mind somewhere behind "help me" and "I deserve better". We just have to re-teach ourselves these ideas until it becomes our vernacular. We have to restructure our brains to the Stone-Age, when fight or flight remained at the forefront of our consciousness to protect us from suffering. That little nagging feeling in our guts used to be a warning of impending danger but over time, we have suppressed that voice. We have become so dependent on technology that our ability to tap into that feral, ancient mechanism has been dampened.

Maybe it was by design, maybe it was an unfortunate side effect of progress. We are in unprecedented times and it's more important than ever to get back in touch with our inner guardians. No time like the present, right? What's the old adage-- they call it the "present" because it's a gift?

Just because our experiences have devolved us into people-pleasing, self-harm addicted doormats doesn't mean we have to remain in that mindset. Right? RIGHT???