(Dis)pleased to meet you, rock bottom.

So I hit a new low this weekend.  In the spirit of honesty, I've been creeping toward this moment for awhile now, and I knew it.  I was self aware, and that's why this is worse.  I.KEPT.GOING.ANYWAY.

I don't want to get into the nitty gritty details, but I will try to provide a general framework for reference.  The general gist is that I became that girl, the one chasing something wholly unworthy simply because it was familiar and didn't require anything of me beyond the bottom line.  I went back to a place and a person that used to make me feel good, but over the course of the last year has progressively done a worse job of that, sometimes even veering into the territory of actively making me feel lousy. 

Nothing happened.  It was just a matter of words being exchanged, but I made a complete ass of myself, and I got dismissed quite flippantly. My stomach roiled with shame and embarrassment at my total lack of self-respect and dignity, and I felt sick with the knowledge of the kind of power I had given to this individual who didn't deserve a single ounce of it.  A good friend once told me that he was "beneath me in both friendship and love", and he was right.  But I didn't listen. 

It became like a game.  I could always say anything I wanted to him and it never changed anything.  I could be as reckless with my words as I wanted, as honest as possible and it didn't matter.  It was liberating. This guy was like Teflon...nothing stuck.  I could throw all kinds of random truths at him and he never left.  He never changed how he dealt with me.  He would just be the same as he was before.

But in the last month or two, I overdid it. I think simultaneously, whatever thing we had, it was abating.  It was dissolving back into nothing, and the little allure and pull I once had for him was going away.  Thusly, my honesty and directness began to work against me.  I felt the subtle shift, but I ignored it.  I didn't want to lose that outlet for my reckless thoughts.  I kept pretending it was still the same, and subsequently, all of my words began to amass in his corner. Only this time he wasn't setting them aside like they didn't change anything.  This time they were accumulating into a pile of reasons to back away from me. 

And so it happened that out of a misguided desire to recapture the intensity of those highs and lows, I struck out too fiercely, and I lost.  And for awhile late that friday night, I wished I could undo my actions that evening. I wished I could take back the words from time and space and save myself from that final misstep.  I wanted to disappear, reemerging only once enough time had passed to dull the memory of my bad choices.  I wished I could gather up everything I'd ever given to this individual, emotionally, physically, intellectually, and tie it up in a big bag with a somber blue bow and erase myself from his consciousness.

But I can't.  Those things are out there.  They were given, and they were received, some in good conscience, others not so much.  They are pieces I will not get back, and I keep reminding myself...that's okay.  I am still whole without them.  I screwed up a little, I embarrassed myself a little.  Maybe even a lot. It happens.  I'm not going to beat myself up about it, or overanalyze it until my head hurts, or let myself become consumed by it in any fashion. 

I'm taking that big bag with the somber blue bow and I'm letting it go. 

The good thing about rock bottom is that the only place to go after you've been there is up.  :-)