Home » anxiety » But I Can’t Make Myself

But I Can’t Make Myself

Decide.

So many things come down to that One. Little. Word.

My daughters, my parents, & my Schnicklefritz grandson all want me to move to Washington to be closer to ElderDaughter & her family (Schnicklefritz especially, he pouts). I don’t want to miss being there for my grands growing up. I want to be the Gramma they come running to after school, the woman they brag about to their friends who’s just that cool.

BelovedNephew wants me to move to Georgia to be closer to him. He is my best friend, and soulmate. He understands things about me no one else has ever. I miss him so fully, it tears at something inside when I think about how far apart we are.

OnlySon doesn’t want me to change anything. He wants me to live in the house I’m in, keep the job I have, be here, because he’s here. He doesn’t want to miss me. He hates change, and I don’t blame him. Change is uncomfortable and scary.

I know I have to make a decision.

I know I have to make a choice.

But, I can’t make myself.

Because, you see…

Any choice I make…ends with someone I love being hurt.

And that’s one thing I can’t stand to do.

I’ve hurt people in the past, I know I have, sometimes knowingly, but usually out of ignorance, and unconsciously.

How do I make a choice here without hurting someone? I can’t. It’s just not possible.

And then, I hear the voices of my loved ones in my head saying…

“Just do what’s best for you…”

Yeah…but what’s best for me is to NOT FREAKING HURT OTHERS.

Because of what I used to be in the past, because of who I used to be, I made a LOT of changes in my life.

Oh, Goddess, I’ve fucked up so many things in my past, but there’s nothing I can do about that, anymore. There’s no going back, there’s no atonement, there’s no fixing, for so many of those things.

And, I’ve paid. Oh, yeah…I’ve paid in spades, for a lot of it. I beat the hell out of myself (can’t you tell?) for my past, regularly. *shrug* And I do try to make up for being an asshole back then, by being very much not an asshole now.

I think, too, subconsciously, part of me thinks I deserve to be alone now, because of everything I did in the past.

Penance, you know?

Like maybe there’s some kind of invisible-to-me sign that hangs around my neck that says “unworthy“, that men can see, so they stay away.

But, I digress.

I know I need a change.

I know I have to make a choice.

I can’t stay, because things here…just hurt…anymore. The ones that have left their knives behind in my back, wow, they were sharp, and left scars that just don’t fade. The ones that used only words…seemed to scar worse. And the ones that smiled, that seemed to want the same things, then disappeared… everything just hurts, you know?

Is it any wonder I don’t sleep or eat much these days?

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