Repent
Before you call me miserable and ask me to "let it go", let me remind you that my "misery" is what it looks like to watch someone fight for their life while you drown them.
It is the reaction to too many broken olive branches. It is not a choice, it has been cultivated by a continuous dismissal of my needs and defence of your actions. My "misery" triggers the discomfort of you facing your demons.
The next time you spit out "You just want to be miserable", I will nod my head and allow you to paint that picture. Me, miserable. You, vindicated.
I will nod my head, because like a child, you are angry about dealing with the consequences of your actions, you have decided that hurling insults is the best way to justify your behaviour.
More accurately, you are someone who finds the seat of power easy, and the effort of changing your ways tiresome. In search of a break from all this 'correctness', you have decided that those whom you have been granting freedom to have been nothing but thankless whiners. Complaining at the slightest error. To think, you have made so much room for them in your house. Ingrates.
Because only then can you rest. It is only when the tell tale heart is exposed for its incessantly obnoxious and energy consuming nature, only then can you sleep.
If only you could stop the constant noise of accountability could your head clear enough to make the right choices, to be a good and proper leader again.
So I must be craving this unrest. I must want this misery. That must be the problem. And would I just move on?
No.
My place on this earth is determined by who sits in power. We are not all equal. Though, we are all subject to the pecking order & we all feel the sharp bite of these unfair terms we live within.
When we live in fear of each other, our relational behaviour is disconnected from our moral fabric. When we develop a society where we fend for ourselves only, then it makes perfect sense that my needs will never become a priority to you, no matter our differing baselines. Tooth and Nail, we are carving out a tiny piece of this earth for ourselves and anyone that threatens your effort is an enemy.
You and I are subject to the same rules, even if you get to bend them. It's a game of snakes & ladders, it's not your fault that I got more snakes and you got more ladders. It's a game of chance. So All. Lives. Matter.
But when we build a society that looks after one another, then our behaviour matters.
You may not be reaping rewards of power, but when you use your power to purposely get in the way of my wellbeing, it is abuse.
When my resistance to your abuse aggravates you, it fuels a reaction to engage your power.
You have a power you didn't even know about until you discovered you could target me and gain.
When you deny my request to respect me, you are rationalizing your behaviour.
When you find my existence abhorrent, I am no longer human to you. I become disposable.
So All Lives Do Not Matter. In fact, some matter very little to you.
So, No. I will not just move on,
But you've said sorry so many times. How many more times will I need to hear it? And why won't I just accept it.
Your effort is not all for forgiveness.
Something you may never have realized: When you have abused and stripped dignity, there is no such thing as forgiveness.
Your effort, my friend, is for repair.
And brother, that is what we are waiting for. You can beg for forgiveness. You can "walk on your knees for a hundred miles, through the desert repenting" And you will still call me miserable.
Because sorry is not repairing the markings you made.
Sorry is not an action.
Healing takes time.
Healing can be painful.
Healing shows up in the function and autonomy of the abused. Not the level of guilt of the abuser.
What is repair? That's what our whole world is trying to grasp.
When it hurts everywhere, it is difficult for me to articulate what actions could lead to repair.
It is an abuse in itself to expect me to create a solution for the problem you created.
Though if that is the case, be patient as I am coming out of the fog. Be accepting of my frustration because you are asking the wounded to be the healer and for the assailant to get the credit. And I will do it anyway.
Preserving myself along with your ego demands grit.
So when I remind you of your poor behaviour,
When I don't applaud your efforts,
When I deny your request to be seen as the "good guy",
And you have no idea why.
Sure, call me miserable, if that makes you feel better.
Because, at the end of the day, the strongest of us make it comfortable for the weakest of us.