Funny thing self respect. I’m not at all sure I’ve ever possessed any. But it’s only now I’ve realised that, or at least it’s only now that a sequence of events has made me think about it.
I tried to rescue the last vestiges of my self respect yesterday, but I don’t think I succeeded. The thing is when the only person in the world who really knows who I am is also the object of my desire and he is getting increasingly fed up with ‘knowing who I am’ it is surely complicated. I don’t think it’s entirely my own fault, but I’ve certainly messed up big time with my self esteem.
Despite all the talkings to I’ve given myself for the last couple of years, I couldn’t stop sending that stupid message the other week. Been stewing on it ever since, so yesterday I sent another. Madness, you might think. And of course you’d be right.
what possessed me to think it was a good idea? Not just this time either. But I tried to make it sensible, explanatory and not crazy sounding. Just said that I wasn’t as nutty as I sounded and that I was not using Facebook and trying to focus on the here and now. I knew there wouldn’t be a reply this time as he is almost at the point of screaming at me to leave him alone….
but, this morning, I opened my gmail and there it was. A reply. Very short, but there. ‘Acknowledged Barb. ‘ it said. ‘You pretty much know what I feel. You are doing it right.’
wtf is that supposed to mean. Cos actually I pretty much have no feckin idea what he feels. The mixed messages I’ve been getting have me completely confused and almost beat.
patronising shit. You have taken every last scrap of my self respect. What little I used to have has evaporated until I’m feeling no better than the slug that invaded my bedroom last week and left slimy trails over all my stuff.
god, it’s going to be hard to claw any of that respect back. But I have to try, otherwise where does that leave me?
Barbara Murray Art 