Let's talk about psychological problems

I have an issue.  I love girls who hurt me.  I can somehow smell them from a mile away.  It's almost as if I have a gift for it.



I've been to 4 psychologists and 3 psychiatrists.  Here's what the 4 psychiatrists said:

I took drugs like a crazy person.  Paxil, Welbutrin, Zoloft.  Serious, mind bending drugs.  I couldn't count my own toes when I was taking those drugs. Why was I taking them?  Because I failed in my imagination.  I couldn't imagine a world that was better with me in it.  I could imagine an infinite number of worlds that would be better without me; the ones with me always seemed to be tilting toward disaster.



Eventually, and for each single prescribed drug, I said no thanks.

I realized that, while I don't have much, I have something.  Those "helpful" and "legal" drugs turned me into someone I didn't like.  Someone who was all smiles, all the time.  Someone who couldn't tell a good time from a bad one, someone who no longer had judgment.  And what really surprised me is how much I love judgment.  I like being able to say something is wrong, something is right.



And, even more, I like to be able to say that I am right.

What does this have to do with loving girls who hurt me?  It's quite simple.  Somewhere along the way, I have decided that I don't deserve to be happy.  I don't deserve to be right, though I am, even though right and wrong are not rewards, they just are.  My 3 psychologists said that I need to stop.  That was their message.  Not stop "being," "caring," or "being me."  Just stop.  All three said that I was lovable, that I was considerate, that I was careful.  All three of them said that I hated myself so much that I would destroy the things I loved.





I laughed, I snickered, I grinned in the way I do, which is so demeaning because it is so empty.  I shut down.  I didn't want to hear about all the things I was missing, nor was I interested in hearing about all the great things about me that these people,  to whom I was paying $150/hour, were saying.  I just wanted to hear that I was right.  All three of them said such nice things about me, things which my experience denounces as a lie; however all three said this one thing (paraphrased) :




"Tim, you always think someone else has better words to say how you feel than you do.  But you speak, you think, and you love so well."  All 3 of them said, at one point or another, "I'm sorry."  Those words have fallen on deaf ears, and there is no change I can foresee, so I still love those girls that will hurt me.

here's the secret truth:  i'd rather love anyone who knowingly hurts me than ever love a someone that i could accidentally hurt.  and i'd rather leave you, because that's a passive hurt, than ever actively hurt you.  i can't live with active tears.