guardrail

Staying on track can be tough when the road ahead is long and indefinite. I had that urge again today... I wouldn't say it was a suicidal impulse. Not quite that drastic. But driving along with Todd in the passenger seat, I realized how familiar the feeling of this pressure building in my chest has become.

Waiting for a stoplight to change, I found myself momentarily outside of my body, outside of the vehicle looking in at the middle-aged woman with her head cupped in her left hand as she leaned toward the door in emotional exhaustion. The sight was jarring. Could that be me?

The grip of the tightness in my chest confirmed it. And I welcomed the destruction my emotional state seems to be placing on my body. Maybe that will be my escape, I thought... but to what? An out-patient visit for some stress-induced malady, followed by an even more stressful attempt at recovery in a house that still revolves around Todd? Even a hospital stay could not be long enough. No, I guess I should fight for my health.

Those moments of wanting to give up (no matter how brief) scare me.

I've learned that joy doesn't just happen, though. You have to go after it deliberately. Some people take a short cut and settle for a cheap substitute, but I know you sometimes not only have to wade through some crap to get there... sometimes you have to pause and scrape the crap off your own shoes before you can go on. Denying the existence of the crap will not help you to tread any more lightly.

So, I'm examining my past habits to try to learn where I've gone wrong.

A good friend loaned me a book titled How to Spot a Dangerous Man Before You Get Involved. I can see Todd all over in it... but that's not the troubling thing, that's not the thing to focus on, no, that's not the thing at all.

The perplexing thing is: Why on earth did I make the choices I made to get where I am now? The whole "just make better choices from here on out" approach doesn't cut it, because if I'm honest with myself, I see that just having "been hurt" is no guarantee that I've really learned my lesson -- that I've really broken the patterns that led to hooking up with Todd. 

No one wants to walk through the crap with you. It's something you have to do alone (unless you can afford a therapist.) I'll be okay. I'll even be stronger. Healthier. More complete. I'm just not there yet, and therefore, I'm not fit to be around others. It would be unfair to drain them. 

Sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone to act as a guardrail at those times that frighten me... those times when the lure of non-existence becomes too great. 

I know God is there. His Word is a guardrail. But people's interpretations of it are not... in fact, sometimes they are a gap in the guardrail, complete with a steep incline leading to that gap.

The books I've been reading lately all remind me that it's time for a make-over. I'm sure if I shared what's been going on and what I've been thinking with people in my church, they would be in a hurry to get Todd and me into "couples' counseling." As far as I'm concerned right now, however, my relationship with Todd is a non-issue. I can't change him. I can't make decisions for him. And I definitely can't trust him. We each need to deal with our own issues or "couples' counseling" would be not only a waste of time, but quite possibly one of those gaping holes in the guardrail. 

When I look at how I keep veering toward that darn guardrail, I know that I can't trust myself, either. But I can make decisions for myself. And if I'm willing to critically evaluate my previous decisions and the patterns they follow, I can change. If I can be honest with myself about where I am in that process, I believe I can eventually come to trust myself again. Until then, I'm going to have to be careful who I trust.