It's Hard Being a Human

All day, two things have been stuck in my head. (Well, three if you count the Mambo number 5 song.) “Hurting people hurt people.” and “Broken glass cuts.”

I know because I am a hurting person who occasionally hurts people, especially people I love. I am also broken glass, and I cut.

Why? I don’t know. I wish I did so I could correct it. I’ve had two significant others tell me that I am more compassionate with strangers than I am with them. My therapist says that’s completely normal. Or at least “the norm,” because the people we love are the people we feel most vulnerable and uninhibited around. Makes sense, I guess. But at the same time, why do we hurt the ones we love. I’ve been on both ends of this. I’ve blamed my part of it on my zodiac sign (scorpio,) on my bi-polar, I’ve even claimed narcissim. (By the way, the therapist assured me that I am not narcissitic, just show traits, though I don’t know.)

I honestly don’t know about me anymore. Every thing I ever believed to be true about myself, I question now. I don’t find myself to be manipulative or a gas lighter. Am I? Or have I been manipulated into believing these things. I will work through it somehow.

All I know is, I love her. That love for her is giving the wherewithal to see about myself. To examine who I am and what I am.

I am impulsive, intense, and irrational sometimes. A lot of times. I’m not gonna quit trying to control this though…

A single tear literally runs down my cheek as I realize how much I’ve actually lost due to my choices… my bad, bad choices.

I stay though. When people are difficult, less than understanding or mean… When people are working through their own shit, I stay.

I dunno…