The Cautionary Nature of My Love Life

I never seem to learn. In some ways, I feel annoyed at being able to pinpoint the unhealthy aspects I allow in a relationship. But then, in other ways, I don't really mind because I am who I am. I am unlikely to change without receiving a whole lot of [necessary] therapy. I find myself in a squeezing and suffocating position of seeing an issue, drawing correlations from my past; and knowing the root of my toxic behaviors, and why I allow others to treat me poorly. Even more frustrating, I can pinpoint the same facets in my lover with ease. With a compassionate spirit, I sigh and nod wisely. My sensitive feelings hurt, I cry as I also play therapist: "There, there, I know you lash out because you fear commitment; and you fear commitment because your mother withheld nurturing love until she was strong enough to do so, which means you feel love is conditional and you fear that once you allow it in, it may be pulled away."

The ways that we perceive and experience love in our romantic relationships come from our first experience of love: from our parents. This fact seems to make people uncomfortable, perhaps because the thought that anything sexual could relate back to familial is, well, a little gross. This Freudian correlation, in my opinion, focuses too hard on the act resulting from affection as the aspect relating to our original experiences, rather than the affection itself. Or, in a plainer sentence: many adults have sex with someone they love; our perception of that love is based on how we perceived love when we were just little spongey clean slates. We adults just sometimes communicate love with sex. There, feel better?

Okay, back to my point. I'm going to give you a few factoids about the first couple of years of life.

-"Neurological research shows that the first two years of life are the most crucial for brain development. During this period, 80 percent of the brain cells a person will ever have are manufactured." -Tal Mandelbaum

-"During this first year, the brain grows dramatically, producing billions of cells and hundreds of trillions of connections between these cells. A baby’s brain actually reaches over half of its adult size in the first three months." -Dr. Jane Williams

-"If positive experiences do not happen, the pathways needed for normal human experiences may be lost. This is often referred to as the ‘use it or lose it’ principle." -Robert Winston and Rebecca Child

Sponges at one and two years old, if our parents don't give us the proper tools to understand healthy love in a consistent way in those first two years; we're just able to try our best. And that doesn't even account for all the other tragedies, hiccups, snafus, problems and unhealthy conditioning we may receive during the rest of our formative years. Humanity's progress seems unlikely when you account for all the threats and obstacles individuals face. It's true that no man is an island. How many humans at the end of their life feel accomplishment, success, and general confidence that their best outweighed their mistakes.

I took stock of my own existence recently. There is a chance that I have an illness, one that most likely won't allow my life to extend past my fourth decade. (I'm oddly relieved. I don't know whether that is acceptable or not, but there it is.) I feel no compulsion to apologize to any specific person, I can't pinpoint any wrong I have exacted upon anyone that I must answer for before I answer to whomever, whatever, or simply cease to be, facing nothing finally. I tried to always live by the golden rule: tried to practice kindness and compassion, tried to never behave cruelly, or vindictively. But does that necessarily make my life one of meaning or anything that contributed to the further progression of humanity? I think not. Anything I ever did or thought that was a matter of progressiveness was simply a negative response to my upbringing - contrarian behavior that makes me feel quite torn... My poor mother had me out of a desire to evangelize on behalf of her Lord and Savior, and yet she unwittingly created the opposite of her intent. I'm perfectly fine with my beliefs and lifestyle. However, knowing that I am accomplishing not at all what I was bred for and that my mother, were she still alive, would most likely feel nothing but dismay at my entire person does tend to put quite a self-loathing cap on my opinion of myself.

The vanity project of parenthood rarely seems to accomplish that which the parents wish.

And yet, humanity trudges along.

I witness my own lack of purpose alongside my enabling of my partner's less than admirable behavior and know a stronger woman wouldn't endure such treatment. And what good does it do? I crave more from him, knowing it is not to be. I have not a clue what good any of my existence in his life does for him beyond giving him a place to stay, a sounding board for his anger, a person to make his dinner and play doormat - to be someone that will eventually be the object of his hate for being so weak. Neither one of us win. And yet, I can't seem to leave. I've tried a couple of times to break ties. Neither time lasted long, and now my doormat status comes also with the wonderful title of "crazy," for seeming to be so flighty and perhaps even one who craved attention through these "breakups." He thinks I had no intention of actually leaving him, and I know that he doesn't actually know me at all, because the dead seriousness I felt about ending what must be a bad relationship for both of us was firm as cement. The turmoil I felt as we got back together, the lack of control over my own life as I felt my emotions take over my better sense gave me such disappointment in myself that now I constantly feel as though I have no purpose any longer, that all the good I ever was meant to do has been done already, and now I'm just on a crash course of destroying my own sanity and self-respect - I did my best for everyone, and now left to care for my own self, I've planted landmines and bombs, running back over the self-sabotaging landscape until I must die by my own intensely stupid actions.

But I can only do as good as I was given. If I am to sabotage myself, it is presumably because I was not given enough love to see how I should or can treat myself any better. This is the best I can do.

And frankly - look, this man has his red flags. He was not raised to be a healthy and loving man. I could see that after only knowing him for a few weeks. But the last man in my life had no red flags, he seemed perfectly capable of being a trustworthy and healthy person to be meaningful in my life. And yet he destroyed my confidence, whatever remained of it. He ran my love into the ground, and I couldn't see myself ever trusting anyone again. I'd almost rather be in a situation where I can see precisely why my relationship is doomed than think I've found relationship nirvana only to have it blow up in my stunned face.