People Will Only Treat You the Way You Teach Them to Treat You

Hey, y'all--

First I have to apologize (I do that alot, don't I?)--every time I vow I am going to post more on here, I go back to hiding my head like an ostrich and keep from writing until I am feeling better, thus defeating the very purpose of this blog in the first place. So, again, I'm sorry that I haven't posted in so long.

So, enough of that. I'll tell you what's been going on. Yet again, TennCare messed with my medications, and I ended up in another mini-episode, and now I am in the depressed cycle (again)--add to that the desire to drug again. Yeah, after almost 2 years. In NA they say, "The body recovers and the liar returns." It's true--even after all that time--I haven't even thought of doing drugs...was doing so well, even with with the bipolar, and all of a sudden this thought pops in my head that with all the pain I've been feeling over losing my sister, how much better I would feel, IF...

I used to be so strong, I think (and my sick BP mom reminds me)...I can fight this... but the truth is, these days I just don't feel so strong. And it makes me mad when people remind me of who I USED to be. Why can't people just accept that I'm NOT who I used to be? Why can't they just cut me some slack? Ok, so for the most part I AM this independent, stable, strong, wonderful, superwoman they think I am (right). Well, at least on the outside. And sometimes I can even be that woman on the inside. But other times, like this week, when I am just tired and depressed, why can't they let me be that woman too? Why do they still expect such high standards of me?

And yet, even as I pen those words, I know my own answer: PEOPLE WILL ONLY TREAT YOU THE WAY YOU TEACH THEM TO TREAT YOU.

What a hard lesson that was for me to learn. Having come from an abusive home to begin with, and growing up as a young girl believing I must have done something to deserve the abuse (which I DID NOT!)... to finally learn as an adult (and many, many hours of therapy later) that it wasn't my fault... BUT that people will only treat you as you teach them to treat you.

Think about that. Yes, at first, I can accept that I was abused through no fault of my own. My father was a very sick man. Even my first boyfriends, I can accept that. But the pattern that followed, into my young adulthood, ok...so at what point did it flip from being their fault to mine?

I have read ALL of Melody Beattie's writings on codependency (definitely a MUST READ, by the way)-- all about the "victim mentality"-- and I realized that from the time I was 12 years old and was first sexually abused, and from 12 (first memories) through 16 (when I finally moved out of the house), when I was physically abused--ok, those were times of abuse that could be faulted to others.

BUT...from 16 years old onward...can I still blame others for the abuse I received? Don't get me wrong, I am still NOT saying that I DESERVED it, NO WAY!! But I am saying that I DID keep the victim mentality, though, when I could have grown and advanced in my emotional maturity BEYOND that victim mentality, and had I done that, I most likely would not have kept picking losers, men who continued to abuse me. But, however sick it sounds, being the victim was comfortable to me. It was all I ever knew. Choosing abusive men was the only way I knew. Wrong as it was, it held a morbid comfort for me. FEAR kept me bound to that. It may have been horrible, but at least I was familiar with that horrible. So I convinced myself that there was nothing else out there for me--horrible was all there was outside that door, too, so I may as well stick with the horrible I at least knew.

In AA we have a saying: Some are sicker than others. BOY, WAS I SICK!!!

So for the past 2 yrs, I have devoted myself to God, to myself and my own self-improvement, learning who I really am and what I want, and especially what I want from people (specifically MEN), and what I will no longer compromise about. I have tried to find out what God's will is for me, and I was working hard trying to find out what that was, without a man.

So what happened? Some idiot frog (a wicked prince charming, if he was any prince charming at all)--got in the back door of my carefully built up wall and tore it all to pieces, leaving me alone, wounded, and crushed once again. WHY? The same thing I've been trying to tell you. People treat us the way we teach them to treat us. Somehow, sometime during this brand new relationship, I had fallen back on my old behavior that told me I was so lonely, I wanted this man to love me so bad, that I became codependent again, forgot about everything I had learned about being ME, who *I* was, and lapsed right back into the "I'll be whatever he wants me to be so he'll love me" adolescent way of thinking (SICK)....

And I basically taught him, in a very short period of time, that he could treat me as bad as he wanted to, as long as he said the magic words--I love you.

Oh well, at least it was only 2 weeks instead of 2 months or 2 years this time! :)

And, boy, was it a kick in the arse lesson for me. How could someone knock down a wall so easily that it took me 3 years to build up? Oh well, guess I'll just go look for some steel rebar to reiniforce this new wall. And I will try not to be bitter (yeah, right).

I wish I could just pretend it never happened, but that's like looking at a knife sticking out of your heart and saying, "Oh, my, I know there's a knife sticking out of my heart, but I'm just going to pretend it isn't there, and I will just ignore the pain." I CAN'T ignore the pain. But I at least can LIVE through it. I have lived through worse. And I have survived.

And I know I am not alone. On this one, I absolutely know I am not alone! I know there are MANY of you that have been hurt by men, especially men who freaked out when they found out you were bipolar, or who ran when they saw you in an episode. I don't know why I thought this one would stick around when I had mine. What on earth was I thinking? Mini or not, it was still an episode, and his feet could not hit the door fast enough.

Oh well, back to my old philosophy:

ALL MEN ARE FROGS. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS PRINCE CHARMING.

Take care of yourselves, and remember, you really are not alone.
Michele