Dear Spiritual and Emotional Integrity,

in-teg-ri-ty

[in-teg-ri-tee]

-noun

1.  honesty

2.  the state of being whole

There is really nothing that gives me any right to ask forgiveness of You both, but I don't think there's any other way we can all even begin to start over.  Again. 


I know that You and You alone can make me whole.  You are true and I know nothing that is true ever changes; You never change and are still whole and intact.  I know You've been trying to reach me through this fog, but I haven't been open to Your light.  I know that I have a responsibility to nurture you.  I know that when I start to ignore You, we all suffer.  There are just times when "wholeness" doesn't seem to be a word that could possibly apply to me-to any part of me.  This is one of those times.

Every time I neglect you like this, I have the same excuses, usually used in the exact same order.  It's so predictable it's embarrassing.  Sometimes it's the bright eyed Miss Sunny-Positive-Attitude, an incarnation of myself that is all the bitch in me with none of the acknowledgment that I'm so angry I could eat puppies.  That's a good one.  Not this time, though.  Sadly, this time, I've invoked the martyr gig, disguised as the good, giving, loving mother of all (see "Mask" below).. 

"Everyone needs me so much," I say.  "My children were entrusted to me by their Creator and are my responsibility.  Mine alone.  If they aren't happy and healthy, it's my fault.  Every tear they shed could have been avoided had I just loved them more and better.  If they argue, I just have to give them better examples of family love and respect.  If they don't clean their rooms, I just need to be patient and explain again why it's good to live in a clean environment and how leaving food to grow mold behind the bed where I can't see it is unhealthy for all of us.  I've obviously been selfish and I need to work harder for them."

"I'm everything to my husband and he needs to be able to count on me to be there whenever things are tough for him."  This is where I mask my face to look the picture of strength, loyalty, June Cleaver and my grandmother, with just a pinch of my mom thrown in to tone down some of the sweetness that tends to become nauseating without that one extra ingredient.  I have to say, the best feature of this mask is that it not only enhances the general martyr theme, it's also applicable to a wide variety of people and situations.  It works equally as well with any family member-even the dog (who, of course, I'm neglecting).  This uses much less energy as changing ones mask is exhausting.  Seriously.

In college, I drove a 1977 Vista Cruiser station wagon.  This car was beyond what the term "used" covers as it applies to cars.  The Vista, as she was known among her many passengers, was rode hard and put away wet.  Only the back passenger door was actually functioning as far as allowing ingress and egress as intended, though the driver's side window was stuck in the open position, so I usually just climbed in through there.  No driver's side or rear view mirror, no tail lights and hauling at least 15 bottles of oil to keep that needle from dipping as the Vista left her trail of sludge wherever she went. 

That's how I'm allowing ____________ to use me.  "Oh," I say as she keeps me on the phone for just one more question (translate-20-30 minutes), "this is all so hard on her.  She doesn't have anyone else.  She needs me.  I have to be compassionate.  Without a therapist, best friend, attorney and whipping post, she'd never make it through this."

When a wise friend suggested recently that perhaps it was time for _____________ to make some friends instead of concentrating so much on her legal battle, which has now lasted for three years. 

"Oh, no," I protest.  "She's just so beat up and doesn't feel like she can trust anyone except me."

When another wise friend gave me the name of a good therapist I could pass on to her, I thanked her politely but said that she'd had such a bad experience with her last therapist she just wasn't ready to try again yet...you understand.

So now I've been at the martyr dance for at least a couple of months and of course, it started crumbling a couple weeks ago, leading up to tonight when I had a full on break down and had to admit, my dear Spiritual and Emotional Integrity, that I'd once again denied my complete and absolute need to treat You respectfully if I want to have any chance of admitting that I'm lovable enough to deserve my own love.  Pretending that what I've been doing is the result of selflessness or love or compassion is just such a cop out.  All those things require that I would be practicing them on You, my Wholeness, or they're meaningless and a false sacrifice to those I pretend to give them to.

So here I am, exhausted and depleted, unable to give anybody anything.  My eyes hurt from crying and I feel hollowed out with a melon baller.  My head aches.  I'm full of fear and feeling hopeless.  That's what I get for abusing you, my very best friends and advocates.  You, my Spiritual and Emotional Integrity...my wholeness.



I'd promise never to do this again, but baby, that ship has sailed, been hit by a cannonball and is at the bottom of the sea, just within the Bermuda Triangle.  All I can promise is that I'll try to learn something more than I did last time and the next time I hit rock bottom, I'll do my best to make sure it's for at least a slightly different reason that I've neglected You.  I know how You hate it when I learn nothing.

A while ago You told me that it's not that I keep making the same mistakes over and over again, it's that I'm being offered the same opportunities over and over again.  I wish I was evolved enough to even have a clue what that shit means, cuz "opportunity" sounds way better than "mistake."  It's not happening tonight, though.

One last request.  I know I won't just pop out of bed tomorrow singing like a sparrow.  When I do this much damage, it takes more time to get reacquainted with You.  I'm just asking though, please, that I feel You enough tonight that I can sleep and that I feel You enough tomorrow that however I get through the day, it's honest.  It's a big leap from there to remembering that You and I aren't separate at all, but some part of me remembers it, I suppose, and if I give all of us some real gifts-rest, love, allowing people to care for me, self respect-I don't know why I'm getting into all that.  You already know what I need to do.  I'm pretty down right now so all I can say is I'm sorry again and I'll try my best.

I love you.