Weight of Worthlessness


It is day 11 with interrupted erratic sleep, at best and the sixth night in the past eight that I have had the same version of a dream, this one where it wakes me and I am filled with frustration and pain only to try and rationalize the feelings away.  The dream is not one of those filled with terror that startles me awake to miss the remainder of my nights rest, it is one of those where my thoughts become filled with doubt leaving me feeling unsure of my choices for the remainder of the day only to have it occur again the next evening. I have just arrived at the realization that the  dream is reoccurring because it is true, my subconscious is telling me these things because they are something I need to accept, I should use these facts to reassess my life, and make the needed changes to have this dream stop.

Each time the dream occurs I awake to feel my entire life is not as I believe, that the fallacy is my existence. While each dream is slightly different, I am speaking to someone who is a person close, one who know my thoughts, initially it was a therapist who is speaking to me. I am sitting is an intimate conversation situation where the conversation is focused on me and something that has occurred. While the topic and backdrop varies slightly, the outcome if the same; I am told that I am not lovable, the trouble is my core, I am not lovable, I am damaged goods that no one will want and then all of my beliefs, my values are pointed out to be faults, and all the painful words I have heard throughout my life are summarized and presented to me in a logical way that crushes my soul and erodes my being.

Lying in the dark tonight, hearing others words for earlier in my day, my mind once again filled with this dream I realize it is possibly true. That pain is beyond words. I may not be lovable, I am missing so many pieces from my journey through life how could I be enough to be loves, and my edges are so difficult I cannot be truly embraces.  No matter what love I have to give, no matter how much I care, no matter how open and honest I am in baring my heart and soul, it is not nor can it ever be enough. I wonder if I deserve the compassion and kindness I try to offer the world, I do not warrant the same time and consideration I offer to others, my existence does not justify the same honesty with which I approach life, and ultimately I am afraid I am not worth being loved.

Sitting here in the dark, tears flowing I know my only choice is to retreat into myself, to again live my life from a safe place.  I am surprised how heavy this knowledge feels; I am shocked at the weight of my own worthlessness.  As always I will love my children with all me being, hope I can teach them how to love, pray they find a love and kindness in their intimate life that I will never know, impart to them the ferocity with which I had tried to live my life. As I raise the youngest and send them into the world hoping if I give them the love I was offering the world it can make some impact. Irrelevant of all my effort I suppose I will never understand, I will not learn what others actions mean, I can never reconcile the disparity if behaviors and words. I hope I have the courage to face this painful truth, I hope I can bear this truth. While I grieve for what I may never have, what I will never know I am searching for the strength to make it through the next few years to get my children into adult hood then I can take respite in my silence.

“It is after all the greatest art to limit and isolate oneself.” -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


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