Anxiety, Hatred, and Forgiveness
Commitment
A year and a half ago, my first long-term relationship ended. It was the kind of relationship where neither of us understood where to draw boundaries, so the word no became a rogue phrase, the kind of phrase used with caution and ambiguity. Navigating these boundaries made our time together a special challenge. Each of us was guided by distinct perspectives different than the other. I am more the go with it type, whereas she was constantly on the search for the blueprints to her future.
Her future-orientation was rooted in anxiety; undiagnosed, but extreme. On the good days, the power she gained from her intense anxiety fueled incredible innovation. She was an excellent planner and a high-class problem solver. She guided me through problems which, by myself, would have landed me in entirely different situations. The only reason I attended Seattle University was because she convinced me that it was possible. On the bad days, however, things weren’t so optimistic.
The benefit of acknowledging unique biology and seeking professional help, where necessary, is that a professional will help you find what works best for you. This kind of proactive approach to mental health is next to impossible to discover on your own. When you’re in the moment, your ability to examine and pick apart your motivations for certain behaviors is rooted in your own first-person perspective, so the ways you deal with certain stressors might not always be healthy.
My ex never acknowledged her anxiety, so when plans failed and stressors grew, her anxiety kicked into overdrive. The way she dealt with these stressors was usually proportionate to her anxiety. This usually resulted in extreme self-preservation, lashing out at everyone around her like a caged animal.
Since she was my first long-term relationship, I didn’t know where it was safe and acceptable to draw a boundary line during these self-preserving moments. I was empathetic and patient to her mental health for as long as possible, but after a year of the same cycle of such an unhealthy response to stress, my empathy and patience eventually transitioned to irritability and contempt. I resented her for the things she said when she was self-preserving; I resented myself myself for staying. The resentment eventually grew into hatred and the relationship ended soon after.
Collision
There’s too much work involved with hating another human being. Hatred requires an active commitment to avoidance. Not only the physical kind, but also avoidance of the thoughts, memories, and dreams that crop up any time one of the thousands of little triggers, littered throughout your home, signals to the brain that this person still exists, this person still breathes somewhere on this Earth. When the hatred grows so large that avoidance becomes every aspect of your waking moment, there is only one result: exasperation. I have been tired for so long now.
Several weeks ago the exhaustion hit a breaking point. I saw her in a hallway while I was typing up a paper for another class. It was the first time I had seen her since the break up. In the fight or flight sort of scenario, my body often chooses neither. It likes to freeze, to play dead long enough for the bear to lose interest and walk away. In that hallway, my freezing only served to make an incredibly uncomfortable situation between us. Afterward, I felt so nauseated that I resolved for change, I just didn’t know how to start.
The starting point came naturally. Three weeks ago, I saw her at graduation. It was the look on her face that changed me. She waved a cautious wave, one which looked nervous and uncertain. I thought about what she must be thinking. She was probably on a loop, trying to figure out if I was still mad at her. I realized that it was selfish to allow my negative feelings to ruin her big day, to ruin the day of a person who hadn’t been in my life for a year and a half.
I took that feeling and chose to do something with it. I stuffed my pride in my back pocket and walked over to her. We chatted for a minute and I wished her luck, something that I was surprised to find I meant sincerely.
Conclusion
Ever since I walked away from her at graduation, she hasn’t left my thoughts. I have been in my own loop, trying to wrap my head around my hatred, attempting to answer the question of what these feelings get me.
A few nights ago, I connected my phone to my computer to sync two or three years’ worth of photos. During the transfer slideshow, the photos hit a two-minute summary of our relationship. Photos of us together — laughing, walking, dancing, cuddling. For the first time in a long time, my usual focus on feelings of frustration, resentment, and avoidance were replaced by memories of the times that were filled with the joy and the love and the care that we once shared. With all these memories flurrying about, I went to bed with my first fully-formed, positive memory of her since long before the relationship ended.
When I woke up the next day, it finally hit me: I forgave her. After a year and a half of pain, of nonstop rants (to people who I am thankful had the patience to put up with), of boundless hatred, of trying so hard to forget, I finally finished the process of grief and moved forward. She is a person who says a lot of intense and sometimes hurtful things, but she’s never shared it from a place of ill-intent. She’s just someone who was doing the best she could with the tools she had.
Hatred is heavy, time-consuming, and energy extensive. The only alternative to hatred is forgiveness. To forgive is not to condone. To forgive is simply to make a choice about the future and how your experiences shape you. The process is neither easy, nor is it entirely within our control, but like every change of lifestyle, forgiveness starts with a choice. Once I decided that change was necessary, my brain figured out the rest for me.
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