I'm Noticing in Journal

that when I’m sad, or hurt, I tend to get blame-y.
IT MUST BE YOUR FAULT!
lol
Who do I know that sounds like that?

So, in the interest of self-knowledge and honesty, I have begun to really examine these blame-y thoughts. Am I making someone/thing at fault for my hurt? Or am I simply being honest about the fact that I hurt, and I’m not sure why?
I notice that it is a starkly vulnerable place to be. That there is more hurt in the fact that, as I’m hurt, there are those around me that either don’t notice that I’m hurt and therefore don’t care about me, or they do notice that I’m hurt and they accept or like that I am hurt.
And that there might sound blame-y in itself. Buuuuut it’s not. It’s just an observation. The honest observations would continue as thus: why do I have or invite people into my life who at best do not care about me?
And I continue on with noticing how I feel and asking questions about it without getting blame-y. Because I need to know what the real cost/benefits are in this deal. Only then is true free will and all-important choice available.
Now this takes work, and time, and effort.

On New Years day, I felt so drained. I cried a good portion of it. Not just because my FIL is an asshole and physically trapped me and my children for some time- but because my husband had the thoughtless and soul-crushing idea of attempting to defend FIL’s intentions to me.
This, after I had decided on the only effective course of action was to file for a Personal Protection Oder against the asshole.
Just to say that, of course my FIL is an asshole and does not care if I am hurt. He may even prefer it.
And so does my husband.

So, why is hubby in my life?
I know the immediate reason- which is predictable and boring and cannot be any genuine answer satisfying to more than a single brain cell.
What is the reason? Why did I choose this? The benefit was.... what?
My first thought is that I chose him because I thought that a man who didn’t intentionally harm me was gentle and loving and kind. I really, really thought he was kind; but of course I could never have had a true and accurate perception of hubby when I was raised by a sadist. When being raised by a sadist, the absence of being harmed, even momentarily, is as good as it gets. The absence of being harmed by hubby, was as good as it gets, in my sad and pitiful experience.
So, in addition to this basic observation that I perceived his appeasing as gentleness and kindness, I was simply not challenged by hubby. He never had anything to say about any of my bad behaviors. Not even a simple “I noticed..”. it was dead ignorance, or obfuscation, or avoidance. Not a thing.
And, as learned as I am now in the Psychology of Self-Esteem, I took challenges very personally and deeply. That’s not to say that I was defensive of my bad behaviors, but that the challenges or criticisms I did receive, I received with sober depth of contemplation but no ability to separate myself from that perception. If someone told me that I was quiet, or intimidating, or difficult to get to know, that is what I was. It was reality, and there was no escaping it for me. I did not perceive these criticisms as input in a free-will creative reality where I had ultimate choice in how to receive or use these criticisms. It was a condemnation of a hellishly unchanging characteristic which would be mine and define me forever as long as I knew or associated the person who uttered it.
And so, hubby had none. And it was like the cage of dead weight of others’ labels was gone. At least for as long as we were not accompanied by someone who had had observations or criticisms. And that was also very nice, for me.

These things which created a perfect storm of feelings of this is as good as it gets and this is way better than literally anyone else I know were an unfortunate result of my upbringing. Ie, neither of these experiences had anything at all to do with me or my ideals, choosing based upon any kind of values, having a clear understanding of what I was choosing vs what I was not choosing, etc. Basically, I had no free will. I was a trained reaction-animal just having buttons pushed and reacting according to my training. Like a good dog.

So I suppose the clear answer really is that, if it weren’t for being subjected to sadism, I would never be in the situation I am now.

And that really, really really bites.