losses, all of them

I thought I would take some time to write down all the fears or ideas I have about myself. I have spent a long time trying to integrate all the different pieces of myself. I have hid parts of myself from others and from myself. I have insight sometimes, I have intelligence, I have beauty but I can't hold on to that knowledge for any length of time. I can however, hold on to all those things that have hurt, pierced, prodded or found a home somewhere in my soul, body, mind and heart.

I would be a better happier person had I been born normal.
I would be an athlete if it were not for my Cerebral Palsy.
I would have been a dancer like my sister if it hadn't been for my CP.
I would have been popular if it hadn't been for my CP.
I would have been married with kids by now if it weren't for my CP.
I would have a clue how to love someone if I hadn't tried so hard to hide what was really true about me.
I would have known how to deal with my dad's alcoholism or my brother's addiction if I had more awareness of myself and my innate worth.
I would have been able to deal with everything else CP and all if I hadn't been sexually molested and my parents had taken my side.
I would have been felt better about myself if I thought I could trust or be truthful with anyone.
I always wanted to be my sister, if I were her then I would be happy. She had everything I wanted, friends, popularity, passion for her dancing, and an ability to handle adversity.
She was molested too, but thought it wasn't a big deal, get over it, Jen.
I would have done better for myself if I had not felt the need to drink or be cool.
I lived inside my television set. It was my best friend. It never disappoints.
I tried to fill my life with material things. That would make me cool. I changed my dress, I tried to be something I thought was wonderful. My freshman year of college was one more example of me putting myself in a situation where I would be reminded of the beautiful people and then there was me. Imperfect, even my RA told me she had respect for me that I had chosen such an elitist school. I continued to be reminded of all the ways I wasn't good enough. If I didn't believe it then, I would believe it after two semesters of school.
I had a roommate who thought I was uncool, unaware of how to be popular. She told me that I would go to hell since I wasn't a born again Christian. Rather than go my own way, I tried over and over to be her friend. Even then I had to experience rejection to the nth degree.

Later during a Christian teaching and training trip, yeah you read that correctly. I ended up wanting and needing total acceptance and love the only person that seemed could help me was not someone on this world. It was God. Of course then I fell for a guy named David. He was on crutches and I was more than happy to tell him exactly how to use his crutches. We had a close friendship. He was dating someone else. Of course I had to fall for the unavailable one. He spent tons of time with me. Later he showed me on an index card how and why I was crazy for thinking we were anything other than friends. I didn't stop crying for over a year I think. I thought I was nuts for being so stupid. I transferred I wanted to be a SPED teacher. I fell again for my best friend at the time. Another unattainable one. I feel so hard and i even stayed in my college town just to be closer to him. We were beyond close. He loved me. He wasn't in love with me. I was 24 and thought no one would ever love me. Was that what drove my unwillingness to risk love? I had already been slammed hard and hard twice. I hadn't learned how to be different in relationships. Four years later and I did it again almost exactly the same story. I fell for a fellow teacher. Four years my junior just like last love relationship. He was a budding musician and I went to every show. I was a groupie. I wanted him to love me. He liked me well enough, but he didn't love me. 3 x. Aren't I supposed to stop after three strikes?

Fast forward to 35 and I started a long distance internet relationship. We spoke every day. Our connection was unreal. He came to visit. I wasn't attracted to him. By the end of the weekend, I was in love. He left. I made plans to go visit him. He wanted to marry me. At least that is what he said. 9/11 happened. He stopped calling. I went to visit my friends with my ticket and met him at the Chicago Museum. I thought we were getting back together. At the end of the day he wanted to be friends. He wasn't in love with me. 4 strikes. My fifth strike came with a married man. I threw everything out the window for a sexual, forbidden relationship. So much hurt. It was everything I always knew was true of me, I was a bad, unworthy of real love, damaged, and immoral. Fast forward to last year a long string of bad internet dates. A few sexual encounters, no relationships. I had been reading his blog, a friend had bought a cell phone from this, quirky engaging salesman. Are you single? She asks. Yes, he answers.
I read his blog for months. How could I walk in to the store to see him? He would see me limp and it would be all over. Finally I had enough nerve to say hello on line. He said hello, he got angry right away that I tried to send a pic. He wanted to know me. I was so nervous I had to make it sexual. Even after that exchange, he wanted to spend time with me. He really liked me. Wow. Soon after that beginning we ended. He knew we couldn't make it. Not long term. Lets stop now and be friends. Then we can be friends for life. Great friends. I didn't want another friend. I didn't want to be liked. I wanted him to love me. We kept hanging out. I kept playing it cool. We started dating again. I thought maybe, Maybe we could make it. He broke up with me after I got back from Florida the end of March. He agreed to spend Easter with Me. We took pictures, he held my hand. I thought we would work out, he was just afraid. We continued to spend time together. My ankle started to really hurt. I was scared. He was there. I fell deeper in love with him after months of him being there for me. No one ever made me feel so whole so worth something. I really believed despite the differences and all the fights and all the miscommunication that we could and would make it because he did not leave. He cared for me. He believed in me. I believed in him, his kindness, his commitment to integrity, I was convinced I would help him rebuild a relationship with his daughter. I felt like I had found someone who knew my soul and didn't reject it.

He knew all along that his word was his word. We are friends that is all. When he began to pursue a dating relationship with someone else. I thought I was going to die. He was angry I hadn't taken him at his word. He was tired of seeing me so upset. He thought we all good with this friendship thing. I am so sorry that I couldn't just be his friend. We would be these great friends and be able to joke and razz one another. He could come with me to those awful botox injections with him making fun of me on percocetts.

Instead we are here. I reacted badly a few too many times to reality. I was his friend he was looking for a girlfriend that wasn't me. He tried to be my friend and I couldn't not be in love with him. Jennie please stop contacting me. Please stop.

Love is a strange thing really. It doesn't matter he isn't my dream guy. It doesn't matter that we can't seem to spend the day together without arguing at least once. It doesn't matter that he is an atheist and I am not. It doesn't even matter that he doesn't drive or have a job. What matters to me is that he is number six in my list of strikes out. These are all my losses all of my baggage. All of the things that I cry over. I wish Jason could know and believe that despite all I have done to hurt and disrespect him, I love him more than I have ever loved anyone and will never forget his kindness to me. He made me want to be a better person. He also brought out the worst part. Rejection and a reminder that number 7 is just around the corner if I don't do something with all of these losses. I will believe in miracles if God can help me with these beliefs that have been so comfortable inside this body and soul of mine. I hope this is my bottom as they say in 12 step land. I am sorry Yason, that is what I used to call him. I was yennie and he was yason.