Step Four: The Inventory

We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves

Resentment

What people do I resent?  What led to this resentment? H'okay. So.  This is not a short ordeal.  I resent Doug, Dave, Peter and Amanda (along with Tristan and Jamie).  First up, Amanda. That bitch has been hearing nothing but horrible things about me from Tristan and Jamie, the couple I gave custody over my son to.  I called them on their bullshit, so they served me with an order of protection.  He lied to the police, supposedly I tried to muscle past him in order to see Rowen and threatened to push him down the stairs.  Tell me exactly how that works when he's inside his house and my mother and I the ones standing on the stairs?  This is no light resentment, it's all out fury.  It's been a while since I've felt the glimmerings of hate, but I think (unfortunately) that I still have the capability.  They are in for a rough legal ride.

As for Doug, Peter and Dave... (sighs).  It all started with Mel.  Not to say that everything is her fault (though she played a crucial role), but she is a catalyst of sorts.  She began to date Doug.  Peter (ex-husband), myself, Dave and Blythe were in a romantic polyamorous relationship.  We all lived together in a duplex and we had a wonderful family dynamic.  Those were the best years of my life.

Things went south when Peter and Mel cheated on Doug and I.  With each other.  Doug dropped Mel like a hot potato.  I gave Peter an ultimatum: we work on this relationship that is on the brink of collapse or he packs his shit and gets the fuck out.

He packed his shit and got the fuck out.

I was devastated of course.  This was my high school sweetheart.  True love was supposed to prevail, not to mention we had a ten-month old daughter together.  He tossed it aside as if it were trash.   Since that was the case, I hardly had to think twice when I told him good-riddance.

Doug and I both were at a low, so we did something stupid.  We plastered it on the internet that we were dating now, a sort of Jerry Springer do-si-do.  As predicted, Mel flipped shit and we got a good laugh out of it.  But then...

We started to really like each other.  So we started to date for real.  We thought that we had found happiness through tragedy.  This love had only two conditions: we would keep it casual and that we would always put the friendship first.  We would remain friends no matter what.

Over the months we had a wonderful relationship.  Of course I was still in mourning for the loss of my husband, and on top of that some serious medication changes.  I'm not sure where my head was at the time.  I began to isolate.  Blythe was first to notice and started giving me the cold shoulder as a result.  I went to hug her before we all set off to Oticon that summer and she slapped me away.  "Don't tell me you're going to miss me when you aren't," were her stingy words. 

It got me upset.  I started to isolate more.  Then Dave took notice and hopped on the anti-Carmen wagon.  They tried to do an intervention of sorts.  I begged them to do this another day because I was NOT ready for that, but they kept pushing and pushing.  I left in tears.

At last, Doug jumped on the wagon, and that was the straw that broke the camel's back.  He claimed that he had been cutting and I had been oblivious.  He told me he didn't want to learn to resent me.  Honestly I'm not too terribly sure what exactly I DID to earn his ire.  Yeah, I had sex with other people, WITH his permission because of his anxiety towards sex in general.  Forgivable.  To me anyway.  He started to throw Mike (on-off booty call) in my face and told me how he never was okay with that. 

Sure wish he'd you know... SAID something.

I get evicted as a result.  So now I'm drifting along from person to person, not really giving my full affections for fear of getting burned again.  It's a sad, stupid story, about broken promises and grief.  It gets worse.

Three months later Blythe died of a pulmonary embolism.  I never got to say goodbye or make things right between us, and now I'll never have the chance.  Worse? Even worse?! Dave barred me from the funeral.  That selfish ass put our petty quarrel ahead of respect for his deceased wife.  That's low and childish, and I am angry with it to this day.

Doug hasn't spoken to me in three years.

What institutions do I resent? Why? Right now I am locked horns with DSS about being able to see my son.  Why? It's my fucking son!! I deserve to see him, no matter who he's with! They cannot prove that I was inebriated in his presence.  Ever take anti-psychotics? Yeah, I didn't think so.  It's called narcolepsy, cunt.

What was my motivation, or what did I believe, that lead me to act as I did in these situations? My motivation to completely isolate was that I thought I could run away from my problems by justifying and rationalizing.  Doug told me that I do that, and I hadn't even realized it.  Was he just saying that to try and shock me, or did I truly not accept responsibility?  I'll be damned if I hear that again, so I am vigilant of what I take on as responsibility.  I'm not sure the line between "justified" and "self-loathing" any more. But running away to my own little world was a habit.  I felt safe in someone else's skin. 

How has my dishonesty contributed to my resentments? I never hid my drug use.  It was a once in a while kind of thing, and Doug would just pass it on, as did Dave.  I stole from my mother once, and promptly told her so because I felt so bad about it.  Most of all I think I was dishonest with myself, leading myself to believe that everything was okay.  It's just brain chemistry all out of whack, there is NOT a big problem here.  Apparently it was and I was wrong.  By ignoring it, I only made it worse.

How has my inability or unwillingness to experience certain feelings led me to develop resentments? Peter left me a little damaged in his wake of indifference.  Doug just proved to me that love was most certainly not enough.  I've mentally barricaded myself away from love and tender feelings towards another human being.  The mass majority of people suck, and don't deserve the benefit of a doubt.  I like to be able to trust someone, but how can I when I keep getting stomped on?  Love is a very reserved feeling that I only share with those very, very, VERY close to me.  I've been in two relationships since then, and have not been able to give it my all either time.  Not even Alisha could squeeze the love out of me, and I really cared for her.  I've resigned to the fact that the stove is hot, and it probably always will be.

How has my behavior contributed to my resentments? Isolation? So much worse.  I run away, I escape, I hole up in the bedroom, I push everyone and everything away.  When I get angry I shut down, not lash out.  My father in his own fucked-uptedness showed me that violence is NEVER the answer.  Ever. I don't resent him however, because I have forgiven him.  It's the fresher wounds that are refusing to heal.  The longer I run away, the worse it gets and I'm not exactly sure what to do with myself, especially alone in my head with vague voices and strange shadows that haunt me.

Am I afraid of looking at my part in the situations that caused my resentments? Why? I have fully examined my part in the demise of my family and have determined that a good deal of the fault does lay on me.  But I will NOT be the scapegoat here because there were a good deal of other factors that led to our doom.  I wrote a letter to Dave trying to express this in the most reasonable manner I could.  He told me that I wasn't sincere and that I was a dark stain upon the world that is nothing but a black hole.  So much for that.

How have my resentments affected my relationships with myself, with others and with a Higher Power? Disastrously.  My mental health has deteriorated to level 2 care 24/7.  I cannot stand to thought of myself sometimes.  I don't trust others. In fact, I could give two shits about other people most of the time.  Unless I am invested in them in some way, shape or form, I could care less for humanity.  Whenever I reach out, I get swatted down, so I've largely stopped reaching.  As for my Godself, She is very patient, pushing me out little by little to open up but not give all or nothing.  I understand that in the process of Alchemy that there is a period of isolation needed in order proceed.  It seems as if I am doomed to be alone until I reach ... ... I wish I knew what.

What recurring themes do I notice in my resentments? Hand to stove.  Stove is hot.  Remove hand and nurse your idiot-wounds.  Rinse, wash, repeat.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you
~Ghost