Stupid

Late last night, while deep in the throws of yet another visit from my besty Insomnia, I was watching a show about relationships. This particular scene was centered around a woman (I’ll call her Darla) in a relatively new co-habitation relationship with someone recently divorced with two pre-teen kids. The kids lived primarily with the co-habitating couple. In an effort to “make things work” with her lover because she “couldn’t face another failed relationship”, Darla had bent over backwards many times to accommodate the kids and be accepted by them and she’d even extended herself several times in attempts to get along with her lover’s mercurial ex. She had also ventured outside of her comfort zone with her lover and, against her own better judgement, agreed to a threesome at some unspecified point in the future. Long story short, Darla came home from a particularly stressful day at work in search of comfort only to find her lover and her lover’s ex naked in her bed, obviously post-coital. Although Darla was visibly upset/hurt, the divorced couple didn’t see a problem and invited Darla to join them. When Darla refused to join, her lover reminded Darla that she’d agreed to a threesome but had not specifically ruled out a threesome with the ex.

During a later discussion with her friends about what had just occurred, Darla’s friend asked her if she was okay. Darla, of course, was not okay. When asked how she was feeling, Darla paused and simply said, “I feel stupid.”

“I feel stupid.” Those three words made me sit straight up in my bed. Those three words hit home. I thought back to every failed relationship, including friendships, I’ve ever had. Nothing strikes a chord with me more than being betrayed by someone I trusted, and subsequently feeling stupid for trusting them in the first place. More times than I care to think about, it wasn’t the actual act that killed the relationship, but me feeling stupid for extending my trust in another person to care for me as I had cared for them. Feeling stupid for expecting in return the same level of concern and respect that I had so carefully given. Feeling stupid for expecting the same love I had wrestled with my inner demons to demonstrate. Feeling stupid for giving anyone a glimpse of who I REALLY am.

“I feel stupid” is indeed a heartbreaking affair. “I feel stupid” shakes the psyche and damages the soul. It makes you doubt yourself. It makes you hesitant and guarded. There’s shame and self-recrimination in those three words. Fear and loathing. Buried within almost all the reasons we make up in our minds and so loudly proclaim to all who will listen for not loving someone else fully with our whole selves is simply the fear of having to hear that little voice within our broken selves once again whisper, “I feel stupid.”

This doesn’t end with some grand gesture or any wise words on how to get over, get by or get around. There’s no funny ending. I have none. I’m suffering with the human condition just like everybody else. Some days are better than others, but all days are lived in hopes of not having to hear that little voice once again say, “I feel stupid.”