Forever Tainted

The month my mom died, I worked 193 hours.  I suffered indescribable amounts of pain, loss, anger and resentment.  I kept so busy it was only at night when I lay down to sleep I really had to think of, to feel anything.  As the nights felt like years, each minute a week, I can’t imagine what I’d have done without my job.

I couldn’t ask for a better time to start this course.  I will now spend at least 14 hours each day keeping busy with work or study, and about all I can imagine is left to do is sleep.

I rarely cry on a friends’ shoulder.  I rarely allow myself to be that burden on them.  I’m the shoulder.  I’m the strong one (at least that’s what they tell me).

When I break down, it’s usually through blinding tears and pounding fingertips at my keyboard.  Incredible amounts of pain seep through my words to my blog.  And when I’m done, when I feel a little like I’ve released a bit of that negative energy, I feel a little less pressure on my chest.  Usually, I feel comfort in knowing someone, anyone out there might possibly read and truly understand what I’m going through – who and what I am… And since I didn’t ask them to come here, I didn’t request their help, I don’t have to feel like I’m intruding on their space or burdening them, so I don’t add guilt to my already aching heart and soul.

I don’t expect everyone to understand that, but I’d really thought and hoped you did.  You apologise to people for finding out the way they did about this miserable experience when you know living it, keeping it inside was tearing me up as much as you.  You apologise to them for the shock and pain of hearing about it this way through my ‘disgusting public display’ – but didn’t once apologise to me for my shock and pain of having to go through it – you don’t feel sorrow in the fact that my pain was so severe it cut so deep into core, it forced me to react, release in a very uncharacteristic way today because it’s the only way I know how to cope.

My blogs have always been my outlet.  For the sake of this entry, I’ve made visible a blog I’ve had since 2001 – and kept invisible for more than 5 years now.  In 2001, it wasn’t a ‘thing’ to blog.  Not everyone was doing it. In fact, there were no blogs.  It was my online journal.  I will again make this blog invisible in a few days (there are legal implications to it, that force me to keep it hidden).  For now, I’d like you to see this entry from 2003, this entry from 2004, both of which very ugly outburst of sheer emotion. See now, this entry from another blog I kept later in 2006 and you’ll find the same sort of thing.

I’ve grown a lot since 2003, 2004 or even 2006.  My outlets, writing, painting, and sharing my feelings publicly have allowed for that.  The emotional outbursts are far and few in-between these days.  Even so, they are just as valuable to my growth and me now as they were then and I doubt that will ever change.

I hurt right now.  I hurt and am very confused by your actions, my feelings and this entire situation. I hurt because each new moment it seems you know me less and less – when I thought I’d let you in and showed you who I was at my core.  I’m angry.  I’m angry because all anger stems from hurt – and my wounds just don’t heal that fast.  I’m frustrated.  I’m frustrated because actions speak louder than words.  I’m frustrated because you blame yourself for things that aren’t real or aren’t of any real concern to me. I’m frustrated because when it comes to emotional maturity we are on totally different levels.  I’m frustrated because we cannot seem to see what one another sees, so we can’t make something, anything work. 

I don’t like broken things.

I know you’re hurting too.  I know you’re angry too.  I know you’re frustrated too.  But if I’m honest, I’m not yet ready to feel fully sorry about it yet.  I’m still too wound up in what I’m feeling.  I need to be selfish right now and for that I am sorry.