I will get to the top of my mountain

I am not practiced in this, but I am having to learn it. The boundary was made clear: do not contact me. I have upheld my end of that, but the other end has been dropped and trampled multiple times daily.

I am a die-hard fan of communication first. But after three months of swift, emotional slaps in response to my requests for space and time, I learned that communication does not always work. I learned that a person can apologize to me as many times as they can hurt me, but they won't stop hurting me unless I stop letting them.

I withdrew. I couldn't take the plaintive messages, suggestions and reminders of how good the person was at forgiving. They kept saying they wanted me to heal but what they wanted was me back.

Maybe they honestly couldn't see that their patterns were classically abusive or that I was trying very hard to keep space for them in my life. Maybe they could. Maybe they were doing it on purpose; choosing forgiving language that wove in accusations almost seamlessly. Apologies designed not to evoke forgiveness, but guilt.

My gift at birth was a mantle of shame. It took years to shrug it off. I won't allow anyone else to add to that burden, purposefully or otherwise. After months of feeling hope smashed again and again, I didn't give up. I chose myself.

I am having a lot of trouble remembering that. It is very unnatural for me to not respond to the numerous and public attempts at drawing my attention and support. I love emotionally supporting people. But I do not love being an emotional blood bag, and what they are doing is feeding off my good intentions. I've been scraping the bottom. It's time to climb.

It's going to take a lot of effort. It's going to hurt. I'm going to cry. But I'll get to the top.

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