Saturday, March 29, 2014

Fatal Flaws

We are all flawed. Each and every one of us.

It makes us who we are.

Some of our flaws are simply beautiful.

And some are nothing but ugly.

I sometimes feel like I have more than my fair share of flaws, but I suspect we all feel that way.

I have one flaw, though, that is killing me.

It's killing me.

And I know it's there and I can't make it go away. I don't know how to make it disappear.

It's my Achilles heel.

It. Is. Killing. Me.

I have it all. I have it all. I have it all.
So why... why... can't I just let myself enjoy it? Why do I have to dissect everything? Every little damn thing. I can't just breathe... I can't just let my life happen without tearing it apart.

I am single-handedly ruining something magical. Something so precious and perfect and beautiful and I can't make myself stop.

Why can't I make myself stop?

When he says he loves me, why can't I just believe that? Why do I have to be so damn suspicious and questioning? Why do I pick through every word he says to me just looking for something to upset me?
Thousands and thousands and thousands of words and actions and all I do is pick through those to find the little snippets of nothingness and fixate on them and pick and pick and pick at them like an ugly scab that just gets infected and oozes doubt and fear?

And then it spreads like a virus and eats away at the beautiful things.

Why can't I make it stop?
Why do I sabotage every single good thing that happens to me? I'm the one that makes that happen, not them. I do it.

I do it. I do it. I do it.

I take the beauty and the joy and the love and I strangle it and smother it and kill it. Dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

And I'm standing outside myself, watching it happen, and I'm screaming at me to stop.

Just stop, Beth. Just stop it. Stop.
But I don't. I'm a bystander in my own world. I'm sitting in my computer chair watching my monitor with the keyboard at my fingertips and I look at the screen and myself and my fingers hovering over the keys and I tell myself not to do it and then it happens anyway and I do it and I'm cursing myself and screaming at myself and I do it anyway.


Why? Why? Why?

Why do I let that little ugly voice inside my head win? The one that tells me I'm unlovable and undeserving and fatally flawed. The one that tells me he doesn't love me. He's lying. He's playing a game.

Look, Beth... look at what he said there. Just look at it. He hates you. He's laughing at you. He's just waiting for the moment to pull the rug out from underneath you so he can point and laugh and mock you. Just look, Beth... Look, it's there.. it's THERE.

And there is another voice... a quieter voice. A saner voice. And it tells me I'm being crazy. To just trust. To let him love me.
Why does the ugly voice always win?

I know the ugly voice is lying. It's lying to me. It's... evil. It hates me. He doesn't hate me. The voice hates me.

So why...? Why can't I kill the voice?

Why can't I win?

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