It’s official.  I am my own worst enemy.

In the aftermath of making monumental life changes, I am realizing that I am truly abusive to myself.  I can’t begin to tell you why, but I can assure you that I beat the living sh*t out of myself at least once a day, whether I need it or not.  If it wasn’t so inane, it would be almost laughable.

I have a trail of broken relationships behind me that would rival the most emotionally-retarded person alive.  Without exception, I have scourged myself after each and every one, carefully, painfully, and cheerfully to find the inherent flaw I must possess to perpetually drive away such awesome guys.  You know the ones of which I speak:  they are unreliable, constantly moving the goalpost, offer conditional acceptance at best, full of their own issues and excuses, and are never fully invested in the relationship. They make a strong showing coming out of the gate, but it only takes a few months before they start blowing cold, and I’m left scratching my head, wondering what black hole swallowed up the guy who pledged undying love and devotion only a few days before.  Yep, those are the guys that I will fight to keep in my life, and when they manage to squirm out of my clutches, I mourn and grieve the loss as if I’d lost a precious family member.  I will replay, rethink, and overanalyze every move I made, every move I DIDN’T make, and every utterance spoken, just to find the break in the structure that sent the whole foundation tumbling down.  Nevermind the fact that the “relationship” was so far removed from what I want for myself, or that I wouldn’t hesitate to chalk them up as the a**clowns they are if they were dating one of my friends.  Nope, that’s totally irrelevant.  I am merciless to myself after the break, convinced that if I had only been pretty enough, smart enough, charming enough, something more, then that “prince” would never have changed to an ass.  It never occurs to me that maybe their behavior had nothing to do with me. And when that very notion DOES briefly pass through my head, I quickly discount it as a failure to take personal responsibility.  It’s a vicious cycle, if not an exercise in self-torture.