Looking for trends in my behavior? I feel like it’s one of the more useful tools in my self-care arsenal. Those trends aren’t always comfortable to recognize or fun to embrace, but the net result is usually pretty helpful.
Project Liz is progressing well, I think. While walking last night, though, I was spending a fair amount of time mulling over why, after only just a couple of years, I’m in a place where I once again need a Project Liz; namely, this particular question kept resurfacing in my mind: Is this seriously going to happen every two or three years?*
What’s more important than the length of the cycle, though, is what I’m coming to suspect is the proximate cause of that cycle. And, honestly, this is not an easy thing to grapple with. Truth be told, I’ve been weepy a lot of the last 24 hours about it.
I think the impetus for this sudden bout of reflection was my decision, yesterday, to recount – for the first time in months — the major points of the BT debacle. Starting from our first communication and first outing to The Biscuit House in June 2010, and carrying through to the YouTube link by email I got last week, my retelling of the story stretched severalscrolls of an email to complete to my satisfaction.
The sun sets on very few days where I have managed not to think about BT at all, and in particular the double-whammy of having lost him AND my focus with respect to my future, in roughly the same time period? It has fundamentally, badly affected my sense of equilibrium. What I’ve come to realize in the last week or two, however, is that it’s not just an emotional equilibrium disruption; it’s permeated every sphere of my being: physical, emotional, mental, and so forth. I have been hurt, deeply, and in grieving the loss, I have lost my focus on taking care of me.
This is not the first time I’ve reflected on a bad ending and realized the deleterious effect it has had on me, writ large. To wit:
My decision to end my on-again, off-again relationship with Mr. Foster back in 2004? Easily one of the hardest relationship decisions I’ve ever made (but never, ever regretted, by the way). How do you look at your best friend, the person with whom you can share everything and with whom you desperately want to share the rest of your life, and say, “What you’re giving me is not enough. I deserve more.” Answer: You might, but I don’t. It took me months of teetering near the point of depression to realize I wanted actual love, actual passion in my life. Comfortable camaraderie was Not Sufficient. When I snapped to, I looked at myself, surveyed the changes of the two years during which we’d lived together, and realized I had come to believe that I wasn’t attractive enough for anyone to actually wantme. So I began Project Liz 1.0, an enthusiastic and take-no-prisoners attempt to whip myself into far better physical shape; I succeeded, to an extent I couldn’t have ever predicted. I was at my fittest and felt my best, the likes of which I’d never before experienced in the whole of my adult life. It was fnTAStic!
Similarly, my decision — so long in the making — to leave my ex-husband? It demanded the same kind of back-to-reality snap. To continue living with someone who so frequently told me I was worthless, unattractive, or annoying? I had to internalize those messages to a degree that, in the wake of the relationship, I couldn’t imagine ever finding someone who could see me for how I had once seen myself. That strong, confident, fit, self-assured Liz? She was buried under two years of depression and weight. When I left, I realized I had no idea of my own value. I felt proud of myself, sure, but I honestly couldn’t see why anyone would want to be a part of my life. Thank God for Maggie and some terrific support from friends, all of whom rushed to reaffirm my wavering confidence… else I might not have survived.
And now, today, I’m in much the same place. Sadly. The last few weeks have worked wonders in terms of how I see myself, but I’m working against a pretty hefty deficit. The combined messages of Brant so abruptly abandoning what I thought was a strong, worthy-of-trust friendship and Vanderbilt kicking me out of an academic program? It profoundly affected how well I’m able to look at myself in even a remotely positive light. I fake it well, and I do know that I have some pretty wonderful traits. But even as I see those, I have once again come to question why anyone would want to pick me. I know there are people in my bubble who think I’m awesome, but I don’t see it myself. Again, I’m making some strides, but I am not there yet. Not close.
One of these days, I swear, there will be someone who comes along and picks me. Someone who I find amazing and who manages, miracle of all miracles, to find me amazing, too. Someone who invests the time to get to know me, comes to understand that I AM a unique constellation of attributes, of the sort that comes along infrequently and should not be let go. I WILL be someone’s Halley’s Comet. And for the first time in my life, some amazing man who manages to inspire excitement and adoration in me will say the thing I’ve yet, ever, to hear:
I am enough. I’m worth fighting for.
You have no idea – no idea! – how much I want this… how badly I want someone to recognize me for who I am, for what I have to offer, and step up.
Project Liz 3.0 is all about getting to a place – physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, etc. – where I’m ready for this Amazing Man to show up. And this time, so help me God, I’m not going to lose focus. I’m going to take my time, move slowly, and demand nothing less than Amazing. Because, dammit, I DO deserve it.
Hmph.
* Project Liz 1.0 = 2006; Project Liz 2.0 = 2008/2009; Project Liz 3.0 = 2011. Eeps!