I talked a while ago about fighting, and about standing up for myself, or, more to the point, about my inability to do so. Well, the other day I had a fight, and I tried to stand up for myself. It didn't exactly go very well.
It was interesting timing, because I've been reading misia's book Big Big Love lately. I was just reading a part about setting and maintaining boundaries, and about how big women tend to have a problem with that; that so many of us are so programmed to look at any potential suitor as our last chance, and that that can frighten us into saying yes to just about anything.
Not that this is my present situation, mind you. But I really identify with this belief that every chance is my last. I've felt this way for years, in countless situations.
geneen_roth also has a thing in her books about "the one wrong move syndrome." I'm a little too fried right now to do justice to the explanation, but the gist is that when you grow up around irrational people, when you childhood is not safe, you blame yourself. It's easier. It's too frightening, when you're a child, to believe that the adults in your life are fucked up, so you look for ways to make it your fault, because when you're the one who's done something wrong, then you can avoid doing that one wrong thing in the future. And if you avoid doing that one wrong thing in the future, then you won't get abused.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've lived my life in abject terror, constantly walking on eggshells, constantly on the lookout for landmines and boobytraps.