Tuesday, November 9, 2010

No, You're Worth Much More Than That


Eeyore, the old grey Donkey, stood by the side of the stream, and looked at himself in the water. 
"Pathetic," he said. "That's what it is. Pathetic." 
He turned and walked slowly down the stream for twenty yards, splashed across it, and walked slowly back on the other side. 
Then he looked at himself in the water again. 
"As I thought," he said. "No better from this side. But nobody minds. Nobody cares. Pathetic, that's what it is."
— Winnie the Pooh

Self-pity. Water gazing. Quite possibly the most lonely times of my life have been when I've made pinky promises with self-pity and threw parties that no one attended. I've lingered over my reflection in the changing stream and kicked it with sadness.

Don't get me wrong. This is just as much an entry for me to read in a couple of weeks when I'm turning up the weeping guitar, and letting the sulk soak in. Sometimes self-pity feels amazing. Like some weird drug for my soul, it just hits the spot. The kicker is the withdrawal. That's when I realize I've been gorging on self-pity for quite awhile.

After the whole "situation" last year with my ex-husband, I had lots of nights with my six-month-old wondering when I would be able to walk out the door again without wanting to run for cover. And even most recently in my life, some surfacing of strange news, I still hear from people (who mean well) ...

"You're taking this well."
or even more funny to me (if you only knew),
"You're so strong."

Because I'm not strong. (Seriously, I'm not.) And I don't take things well. I get angry. I cry. I say bad words and have practice "conversations" (read: maniacal rants) in the privacy of my car.

But bitterness... resentment...self-pity... friends, it's just not worth it. 

Things happen, yes. Bad things. Hurtful things. Things that shoot like venomous arrows to the core of your being and suck the very last hopeful breath out of your lungs. Questions start. Questions that are very real. Very scary. Very...unanswerable

Here's what I (try to) do...
1. I feel it. I feel it down to my toes. Let it run its course — right then, wherever I am. Sometimes it hurts like hell. Sometimes I just have to stop and lie down on the floor.
2. Then I ask God for the grace to let. it. go. 

Self-pity and bitterness are just really gross parasites. They slither down sweetly, hitting all those things that validate your pain, and then set up camp until you forget about them. Then the mayhem begins. The rotting of your internal joy, peace, love, sweet smiles. It kills it all until you're nothing but a miserable shell of the person you were. And you? You're worth muchmuch more.

Really, it's not worth it. Life is too short to let someone else feed you parasites. Smile and eat some chocolate. Or go for a walk. Or eat chocolate and go for a walk at the same time (because you are ohsoamazing like that). 

Nothing profound or deep. That's all for now. And I'm bookmarking this blog entry for my next emo-slump.
"Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies." — Philippians 4:8-9, the message.


11 comments:

  1. This 'sisterhood' is tearing me up, because so many of these posts hit me smack in the face... in a good way, of course. I have been known to throw quite the pity party too, but I'm learning to let God have it as quickly as I start to feel it. Some days I still soak in it for a while, but remembering the times when he's carried me out of the pit becomes easier... Thanks so much for your honesty today!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am struck by your content. I am struck by the eloquence of your prose. I am struck. Honestly, I have some bitterness that could be overdue for some releasing. So, sometime soon, I will allow myself to feel it and then, as a breath, I will breath it out to my Father, who wishes to feed me good things.

    So glad you linked up today!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Mandy — I'm still learning too! Thanks for stopping by :)
    Jen — Thanks for organizing this sisterhood! I have stuff in me that's overdue too. Some of it I avoid, some I'm searching for on a death hunt. Saying a prayer that you'll find that breath to be deep and freeing.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You are worth so much more. It's so easy to hear the lies that Satan wants us to believe than the truth that God shares in His word. Thank you for sharing your honest and authentic emotions with us.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thank you for the honesty-I think it strikes a chord because we see ourselves in your words. Thanks for the reminder to say no, and let go!
    Blessings!

    ReplyDelete
  6. michelle - it's interesting how we believe the lies so quickly before we believe truth. thanks for your encouragement and for stopping by!

    katharine - we're all on this journey together, aren't we? i'm so thankful for a sisterhood of women like you who say "me too!" it's so encouraging!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Andrea, I'm so sorry you are experiencing this pain. I had a very painful first marriage (we did not have children) and I can identify with so many of the emotions you are feeling. The thing is, you ARE strong. Even strong people are allowed to cry, yell, be angry. Just because you do those things doesn't mean you aren't strong. You're normal. You choose to get up each day. You choose to be with your child. You choose to do good by him/her. You choose God. Now THAT'S strong.

    Enjoyed your writing - you are great. SO good to meet you this week!

    ReplyDelete
  8. thank you so much for those encouraging words, Natalie!!!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Heavens to Betsy.

    You have No. Idea. how much I needed to read this today. I just recently had a horrible friend situation and it sucked. And I threw a honkin pity part. And I was such an eeyore.

    You are so right...it is just not worth it.

    Your words resonated. Deeply. I hope they resonated with you as deeply too. Because this words are beautiful and so needed.

    It is so lovely to meet you!

    ReplyDelete
  10. The worst thing about self-pity is that it comes at any time, and doesn't need a good excuse to visit. Everything can be just fine, but I can find the dish with petrified oatmeal on it, and suddenly out come the "poor me"s!
    And do I really think my Father doesn't care?
    Thank you for your words today.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Critty — I'm so glad that these words encouraged you! And I'm really sorry to hear you've been through some pain. I'm walking right there with you!

    CindyC — It's so sneaky, that self-pity. I think you're so right on to make a point that God really does care about every little thing... even petrified oatmeal that sends us over the edge!! :)

    ReplyDelete