It’s Messy

Over and over again the message that I have no control over other people’s decisions bats me on the nose. What was perfectionism in me wanted to become the director of my life. I pushed it away. I had to I was working in theater where deadlines trump perfection. But the relentless deadlines did something to me, though they dismantled perfection they also drove me to blindly hurtle through a series of crises without allowing for recovery. This driving was a form of breaking. I no longer had control. My boundaries were violated routinely. So, I said, no more.

Maybe I’m retreading old ground. In my experience every time a path is re-walked it becomes a different one by virtue of the experience gained from the first time. If I can go through this mindfully, without focusing so much on myself, perhaps this struggle will end. What I mean is this life long struggle to know my calling.

I know I’m called.

But I don’t know where.

I harbored envy toward those who seemed to know better what they were doing. Those who seemed to be prospering without the amount of struggle I experience. This envy has been with me for a very long time. I see that now. Its anger has kept me from enjoying people. Intellectually I see this but my emotions are lagging. So I struggle to be around my “successful” friends. I want to be a good friend. My wound gets in the way.

At this point confession is the only remedy.

So yes, I have been a jerk because I wished that my life were easier the way I think yours is. I have been a jerk because I wanted control over things that I have no business controlling. I’ve also been a jerk for hiding my thoughts and feelings, which lead me to mutter things under my breath and maybe say inappropriate things to people you don’t even know.

I didn’t want all of this to come out in the heat of some emotional upheaval. So to exercise the little control I do have I write this. By posting it publicly I know strangers will read this, and they should. Some of my deepest hostilities have been directed toward strangers, innocent people who have no idea why I’m so angry.

I will continue to struggle with this. In the struggle love and empathy are born.

It’s messy.