It's not your fault

I dated a guy for a bit, on and off, about two years ago.  He had a lot of issues, and I tried to help him work through them.  I learned from that relationship that  you can really only help someone who wants the help, who is willing to take your help and use it.  He would complain about being the way he was, but seemed to have given up all hope of ever being better, of becoming the way he wanted to be.  He isn't a bad person, sometimes he could be really sweet... but there was always something that made me scared of him.

We hadn't seen each other for quite a few months, when I asked him to come over cause I had just gotten back from a pretty crummy trip. He agreed, and assumed I meant that he could also stay the night.  We made-out a bit, and fell asleep, cuddling, on the couch.  While sleeping, he woke me up, kissing me, and then slowly got on top of me. I lay there, completely still, trying to show him that I was not into what he was doing.  I definitely never gave my consent, or told him to keep going.  He kept kissing me, and I kept trying to push him off of me, over and over again.  He isn't necessarily an aggressive person, he just has no off switch.  I got him off me, and then went to my bedroom and locked the door.  He left shortly after that, sent a text a few days later to apologize, and I've never talked to him again.  

I think about the rape culture that exists in our society today, and can only imagine what the young women and men go through when their bodies and personal space are completely violated. This was someone that I was comfortable with, or at least enough to have him over my apartment.  I was alone in my apartment, and if he hadn't yielded to me, I don't know if anyone would have heard me if I had cried out. I wasn't raped. He didn't force his self into me. But for a moment, I thought he would.  For one terrifying moment, I thought he'd push his way inside.  I don't know exactly what victims go through, and how much it affects their lives afterwards, but it is upsetting when the attacker acts like the victim.   I could see that in this guy, too.  He was the victim because he lost all control, and he would pity himself.  This wasn't some teenager who was just learning how his body worked.  This was a 27 year old.  He should have self control, self discipline, enough to know that when someone isn't consenting, it is time to get off of them.  But thinking about the culture in this country, sure someone could look at this and say I was asking for it, I had invited him over and fell asleep with him on my couch, but sex is not something that someone should feel entitled to, and I never asked him for it, plus I was asleep when he rolled onto me.  That is definitely not consent.  No means no.  No answer doesn't mean yes. Being asleep and unable to respond is not yes.

Loose Screws

Somewhere within the last two years, some of my screws have gotten loose and I think this past weekend they came out. I'm not sure when it happened or began, this slow spiraling out of control, but it definitely started two years ago, when I stepped off the plane from Switzerland after successfully fulfilling my year and a half LDS mission.
Maybe it began when I started quasi dating this guy who I met at a school dance. I liked the attention, even though something felt off about him. But things seem to be going well till he moved away after three weeks of us spending days together. But it didn't work out... in a glorious terrible way, I found out, slowly, that he's unhinged, and slightly crazy, and sometimes I fear that somehow he placed a few of his broken shards inside of me, beginning this process of loose screws that have securely held me together.
I began to believe that I'm weak. I was still quite tired from the mission, and fell into a depression. So lost and had no real life goals except get married. That's what we're told to do. Get married. And this boy that I had placed quite a bit of hope and time into turned out to be solidly not the person I should even consider dating, least of all marry. It was painful.
I continued with school, with my graduation slowly looming. Before my mission, I knew that that was my goal. I had something to work towards. Now it was to graduate, but then what. What was my goal after graduation. Get married. But that is not exactly within my control at all. I can date, sure, but I have to find people and meet people whom I would like to date. I always feel out of place and like I don't click, so when I do click with people, I have a tendency to hold on too tight. Death grips.
The screws kept getting turned the closer and closer I got to graduation without a relationship happening. Nothing. Not even tinder worked. I'm timid, and shy, and introverted, but I'm like everyone else, and want to be loved, and cared for, and thought of. And each day that went by without a potential, with the same things happening over and over and over again, continued to be proof that I would fail. I would graduate without a ring on my finger, engagement or wedding.
Some relationships happened, but nothing with too much promise, except possibly.... two. One wasn't quite right at the time, but that didn't stop me from not letting go, until I held on so tight that I killed it. And the second... he was perfect, but I didn't feel like I was perfect for him.
Classes ended. I was done. Failed. Yes, I finished cum laude. Yes, I have a degree. Which some people work so hard to achieve, but I could coast by and still receive honors, while working two jobs. But all this was a distraction from my real goal.  I am a failure.
My screws became loose and they fell out this weekend. I started putting stock in other people, hoping and expecting them to screw me back together. I allowed myself to wallow in self pity, blaming everyone and everything for my disappointment. Instead of looking at myself and seeing that I am becoming a miserable human being. I smiled and laughed, but instead I was crying, almost constantly. Letting the negative thoughts eat me alive.
I got slapped in the face twice, not because me as a person deserves it exactly, but because the whiney, needy, spoiled child that I have become needs it. I needed it in order to pull myself up and remember where healing actually comes from. It doesn't come from other people, I can't expect other people to put me back together. Healing comes from Divinity, I believe in Jesus Christ and His ability to heal me, mentally and my heart, other people might call it the a universe or karma or some other form. I firmly believe that even if it is not immediate, Christ can put me back together, piece by piece, and heal me, my broken mind and broken heart. Disappointment and sadness and frustrations happen, but I can not and should not allow myself to wallow in this and let it stumble me and fall down. I can not just sit in the dirt and cry and wonder why I am not progressing, why isn't anyone picking me up and doing it for me.  I have help, and help is available, and some things I have to do by myself, while I can expect and have faith that I will receive healing from Christ. He has the screwdriver that can ground me again. In that, I firmly believe in.

Disappointment

I've always hated being disappointed. I think it's normal, no one likes to be let down, to have your expectations not met. Even when someone says maybe, that adds this hope that it might happen, barely allowing yourself to feel the excitement, but it's still there. Your hope was raised, even a fraction of an inch. And when it comes crashing down, that fraction feels like an abyss.
I was disappointment recently, and it felt crushing. I had hoped that he would pull through and surprise me, even though I expected he wouldn't. Such a mix of emotions, and so when my expectation proved true that he isn't going to pull through for me, that almost hurt most of all.
But in thinking about it, do I really want to hate being disappointed. That means I have no trust, no expectations, no... standards held for other people. Is that even then a relationship. I don't expect anything from strangers, except maybe that I don't get murdered by them. But I don't expect kindness from strangers, it's always a pleasant surprise when someone holds the door, but I'm not disappointed when it doesn't happen. Disappointment stems from trust, from holding expectations and wants fulfilled from this other person, based on the relationship had. And do I really want to eliminate it all? Just to avoid the crushing feeling that happens when my sight is not met.
I propose that it is better to feel disappointment than to hold no expectations. This way, I know that I am loving the person. The trick then is to forgive and continue forward.