Self-Sabotage

Published in the Santa Barbara Sentinel under the pen name Elizabeth Rose.  Chris is known as “Jason” in the I Heart stories.

I had a breakdown.

Crying on the phone to my mom, I gasped for breath as tears streamed down my cheeks.

I wept for my relationship. Not because something was wrong but because everything was right.

It felt too good to be true and a twisted place in my mind told me I didn’t deserve it.

I am in a mature, committed, and loving relationship, and it was difficult for me to accept I was worthy of this kind of love.

I hate to admit it, but in a sense, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A doomsayer in the face of love.

Self-sabotaging my own happiness.

What a terrible way to live.

It was five years since I had a serious boyfriend before Jason and I got together.

The last long-term relationship revealed that I needed to be on my own for a while before committing to another.

Now, I’m with someone I’m inspired by, admire, respect, and love deeply and it scared the hell out of me.

I didn’t recognize myself, this woman full of hesitation and confusion.

Maybe it was the weed. My clouded and paranoid brain dissecting every conversation, fueling this fire of doubt.

But the feelings came from a deeper place.

Fear of heartbreak was the culprit.

As if the more you love another, the more susceptible you are to being hurt again.

If this relationship may end, why do it?

But what’s the alternative?

To never experience love?

I feel vulnerable knowing Jason will read this and think of me in a different light.

But he assures that he doesn’t see it this way.

He encourages to be open and honest in my writing, a gift to be with someone who supports me to be myself.

The bad stuff, once again, is all in my head.

In Michael Singer’s book, The Untethered Soul, he says the heart controls energy flow, opening and closing like a valve.

We either allow energy to pass through or we restrict it, both are reactions to past experiences.

“Of course it hurts when it comes up. It was stored with pain; it’s going to release with pain,” he says.

Reading those words made it easier to understand.

New love stirred up past heartbreak and the old feelings came to the surface.

As the book suggests, the trick is to identify the emotion as it happens, feel it, allow it to melt away and move forward to the next moment.

Where I fall short is I feel it, try to make sense of it by hashing it out with the voice in my head, then become hard on myself for the thoughts and emotions that arise into the old familiar sting.

When the mind comes in to play, it gets dangerous and I’m practicing over and over again to stop listening to that voice.

Like now.

And… now.

And… there it is again.

I’ve got to be on it. It takes practice to “flow” and I’ve begun to think of it as a game.

Each time it happens, I’m trying to see it as a breakthrough.

When the heart tightens, I do my best to relax and move forward so I don’t travel down that road again. 

Been there, done that.

Through the tears and despair on the phone to my mom, deep down I knew I was breaking through.

I was being pushed to the edge and forced to release what’s been locked inside and needed to “lose it” in order to let go.

I’ve found a person in my life worth fighting for.

A person whose contentment is my life’s mission, no matter how difficult it may be.

In order to be the most open person I can be to someone I love, I’ve realized the person I need to fight for is me.