Own your own shit.

Sorry for the blog title, but it's the saying that carried me for years.

See, back in my youth I had to take a court ordered classes to better myself as a human. I won't bore you with details, but I did spend a night in the hoosegow and learned some very important lessons about how to live my life. Nothing earth-shattering, but definitely enlightening to a young twenty-something with a chip on his shoulder. Being angry men, we tended to "crankify" the touchy-feely stuff and macho it up. "Shit" is angry man slang for "emotions".

The saying above is what we men in the class bastardized out of the lessons being taught. What it means is that no matter the situation, you are the master of yourself. If you allow someone to hurt you, YOU are allowing it. If you feel slighted, your reaction to being wronged is under your control. You cannot control the actions or emotions of others but you can control your own. Own your own shit. Don't let someone else's poor judgment or presence of forethought cause you to lose control of your shit. Handle yourself and the world will handle itself. It was our mantra. If you're angry, use the brain you were given to analyze the why. Anger is a secondary emotion, usually stemming from pain. What is causing you pain? Situation X is causing you pain, remove yourself or the pain-giving object from your sphere of influence. Save yourself from the pain, then look back and try to discern the lesson to be learned.

See, lately I've not been owning my shit. I've been letting my shit run my life and reactions. I've not found the break in the cycle of pain. I couldn't remember to own my own shit. I had a talk with a very good friend of mine recently. She told me I am constantly and consistently flagellating myself and allowing myself to BE flagellated over the past in hopes of a brighter future. Wake up, Beuller. Has it happened? No. Is it effective? Obviously not. She said I had apologized enough and if they weren't accepted, it was time to move on. I need to be accepted as a changed human being and set myself free from the cycle of pain. I needed to own my own shit.

I found out that the soon-to-be ex is officially dating the "old friend". Not that I didn't already know, but I got confirmation. Big part of the reason I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral. We're not officially divorced until January 2008 and I was not willing to let it go. I have shown her my willingness to change for the better of us both, but it is all for naught. She's moved on to the next project. I can understand- he's new, he's familiar, he makes her feel special and he lives three hours away. He needs saving, from living in his mom's house, from his evil ex-wife, his kids will possibly fill the void she has since leaving my boy. She's been working on this since October of last year. I hope it works for them. I hope whatever made him break from his wife and kids has been fixed. I love her too much to want her to hurt.

So when I found this out, I lost my shit all over again. I was distraught, heartbroken and feeling completely shattered. My friend asks me why do I feel like that? You knew she was going to abandon the family when she left right after Christmas to be near her "real" family. You found the pictures on the computer of this guy and his kids. You never got an apology for spending New Years alone. She was gone off and on all year and told you she wouldn't go to Oregon. She told you she didn't know if or when she was coming back from Texas when she left in April. She filed for divorce in July and promptly ran up your phone bill talking to this guy. She's been giving you the answers. You just don't want to hear. Quit trying to beat yourself into the ground over the past. Quit trying to prove to her that you're different, because she has not and will not ever see it. She will never let you live down the past, so walk away. She has.

I needed to take ownership of my own shit and let go of the other. She's going to hold it against you for the rest of her life. When my friend told me that I had taken sole ownership of the marriage failure, I knew she was right.

On a sunset drive home from work, I started once again to own my own shit. And I could breathe.

Ain't nothin to a G.