Knowing when & who to trust....
As I sit here, contemplating the very bad (I mean VERY bad) decisions I have made...especially as of recent. I wonder, "why did I say that?" Or "what possessed me to act like that?" Or "why didn't I do the right thing, again?" I am hurting, deeply. I am in pain, from the depths of my soul. I long for a friend, an ally, who's shoulder I can cry on without judgment and apology. I know that my husband loves me, even with all my faults (warts, baggage, and all). I know that my mom, sort of "gets me". But I yearn for a friend who simply sits, listens, wipes my tears, holds my hand, and tells me: "yea, you screwed up, but you still are a good person."
When I peer around the thick wall I have built to surround myself, I see that I have done so much to keep others at bay. I make no attempt to meet new people. I say that I will call someone to get together, but I never do. I make up some story about "this thing I've got to do" which does not exist. Because even when someone acts as though she wants to know me, the little voice inside reminds me that is not true.
I can talk, trust me. I can weave a tale. You might think that I am opening up to you, but I am not. I am keeping things hidden, covered, and buried. I will tell you bits about myself, and you might think that you are learning about me, but in reality there is so much more to me.
I am sort of keeping the soft gooey center of me protected at all times, because if you cannot get to it you cannot hurt me. So, I do not trust most people. And I do not trust most things. I mean, I do trust my kids...but if I was to be totally honest, they are the only people I totally trust in this world. No one else. No one completely.
The few times I have peeled away some of the wall, I find that I have, again, chosen the wrong person to trust. My hands are slapped, I am shamed and embarrassed, and I am alone. Many times more alone than I was before. I can feel my shoulders curl down, I am close to tears, I feel hollow, and I just want to crawl into a hole.
I am known to say awful things just feel "a part of". To buy into other people's negative view on life, so I can feel included...no longer different, but wanted and similar. These attempts to feel part of the group have diverted me away from who I truly am. I walk around with this bravado, similar to "I am a tough girl. Don't screw with me cause I'll kick your ass." Really? Honestly, that is not me AT ALL. But I keep it up because I know deep, deep inside of me I need to.
Because I am in pain, hurting from head to toe, from my heart out, I believe I need to write. This pain, this anguish, this sorrow is eating at me. It is carving deep wounds throughout my soul. I am wallowing in it...up to my chin. I am hoping by writing, I might be able to release some of the pain. I am hoping as this has become too much to bear for much longer.
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