too damn full of resentment

"Our fatigue is often caused not by work, but by worry, frustration, and resentment."

~Dale Carnegie

I'm exhausted.  Exhausted and frustrated.  I have dealt head-on with some deep emotions and distinct grievances in my life.  I've forgiven the man who raped me.  I've even forgiven the man who blamed me for being raped.  I've forgiven the man who cheated on me.  I've forgiven the man who couldn't be the man that I wanted him to be.  I've forgiven myself time and time again.  Forgiveness was a difficult feat and a valuable lesson, and I've managed to truly feel it in my core, to believe in it in the fibers of my soul, to move into it fairly easily when desired.  I can do forgiveness.  I thought that it was the ultimate goal.  So, where the hell did resentment come from?

I have recently experienced feelings of resentment that were vast, consuming, and utterly maddening.  They came out of the blue and rose up like the waves at high tide, unrelenting and with increasing size and intensity.  Resentment made it difficult to see others in the way in which I had always viewed them.  Resentment changed the way I looked.  I didn't laugh.  I didn't smile.  I wore a permanent grimace and a shitty expression.  I couldn't be happy, and I couldn't hide my unhappiness.  What a joy I must have been to be around!

I don't remember the last time that I felt resentment like this.  I had forgotten how it creeps into the fibers of your being and changes your genetic make-up.  It colors all that you see, hear, touch, smell, and taste with bitterness and leaves an acidic aftertaste.  It's so encompasses you that it feels like you'll never see the other side of it.  Much like depression, it feels like a helpless and hopeless situation.  Caught in its grasp, I worried that I would never shake the feelings.  I wallowed in it for as long as I could stand it, but fought hard to find a handhold in reality and perspective from which I could pull myself out of the quicksand before it could swallow me whole.

A weekend spent licking my wounds and getting some time and distance between myself and the situation gave me a little perspective on this latest emotional sucker punch.  I can now see how resentment triggers my old, deep-seated core beliefs about being a victim--my victim mentality, as it was introduced to me.  It stirred up those repetitive sentiments from my past...the "why do they do this to me?" and the "how can they take advantage of me like this?"  I suddenly felt shame for allowing myself to give in to those feelings, for climbing right back onto the victim triangle that I worked so hard to extricate myself from years ago.  And, I felt like an idiot for not recognizing it.

So, now I'm working on restoring my views of others to their pre-resentment status, including my view of myself.  I'm practicing compassion towards myself and others in an effort to forgive myself and to forgive them, even if their wrongs only existed in my eyes.  I'm staying conscious around what I can control and what is out of my control.  And, I am examining what my expectations of others says about me and my beliefs.

All I can say is that this growth and development stuff sucks.  Why can't I just be clueless and happy?  Hmmmm.....now that would be a topic worth exploring.

taking responsibility for myself

Nearly three years ago I took a job that scared the absolute shit out of me. As a Victim Advocate in a probation office, I would be required to attend the treatment groups of sex offenders. I knew how to work with and for victims, but I had no clue what to expect from working so closely with sex offenders. I imagined a dark room full of seedy, smarmy child molesters and rapists, something akin to an AA meeting in a cramped church basement--big, sweaty men in rickety chairs, an old coffee pot brewing in the corner, and the air thick with cigarette smoke. Of course, the groups are nothing like that. In fact, they're quite sterile, professional, yet relaxed...boring, really. Getting to know the men in these groups, and, in many cases, their family and friends, I was reminded that real monsters are less common than TV and the movies would lead us to believe. We are all human and, thus, all fallible....and, perhaps, all forgivable.

On top of learning to see others in a more holistic way, I have learned in my work with sex offenders that healing and growth cannot begin until one truly takes responsibility for his own actions. The first step in taking responsibility is being honest. Denial can run rampant in the sex offender community, as one might imagine, but we are lucky in that we can utilize polygraphs with deniers. Can you imagine? How cool would it be to be able to use a lie detector test with the people in your personal life? From your significant other to the office gossip, you would be assured that you were being told the truth at all times.

Of course, it's impossible to hold those in our lives to complete honesty, so sometimes we have to accept that they won't be honest and, therefore, that they won't take responsibility for their own words or actions. I've come face-to-face with this reality lately. Even when confronted head on, some remain unwilling to tell the truth, which simply triggers what I've named my "bullshit alarm" to sound. I've found that the alarm is particularly sensitive to misplaced blame and the refusal to acknowledge one's own behavior. Is it really that hard to say, "I screwed up," "It was my fault," or "I did it, and I'm sorry?" Is it worth it to keep up the charade? At what cost do you make that decision? And isn't it just plain exhausting?

No matter what choice those around me have made, I have decided to be honest. Don't ask me a question unless you want to hear the truth. My choice has been both a blessing and a curse. It's brought me closer to some and has driven a wedge into some of my relationships. I stand behind my choice, though, and don't see how I can live an authentic life without being authentic. I've attempted to model honesty in my personal and professional interactions, and I have been proud to see some follow my lead and embrace honesty, but I have seen others react with withdrawal, whining, and even venom.

I've struggled since the other day with what to do when someone seems unwilling or unable to own up to his/her role in hurting me. A big part of me feels that I should remain adamant that I am unwilling to forgive and forget without that person taking responsibility for his/her role. Another part of me argues that by holding out for that person to make a move which seems highly unlikely and uncharacteristic only allows him/her to control the situation. If I take responsibility for my own actions, words, and deeds, I need to take responsibility for my reactions to others. By waiting for another person's decision, I am not fully taking responsibility. In fact, if I can forgive, even when it seems unforgivable, if I can move forward, even without closure for the past, if I can remain in control of my own feelings, even when others may not handle them with care, then I am truly living a life of responsibility...responsibility for myself--for my thoughts, my feelings, my actions, my words, and my impact on those around me.

I'm not perfect. I am far from being the person that I would like to be, but I continue to try. I only hope that others will recognize that and will try just as hard.

"The men who try to do something and fail are infinitely better than those who try to do nothing and succeed." ~Lloyd Jones