so what if you feel strongly towards every single thing and every person that walks down your street and the coffee mug that sits in front of you? what if you wanted (and still want) to be loved and cherished? what if you wanted to hope and you wanted it to hurt?
so what if you wanted to be alive?? so what if you wanted to thrive and be in pain?
like, why hope so desperately for something, or someone, and have that same thing stab you? once on your nerves, the other noosed around your neck, and the final blow on your heart.
so what if it wasn’t logical? what if it wasn’t practical?? what if you were childish, reckless, and impulsive over your feelings; throwing yourself hard into whatever may love you back because you were so desperately starved of care??
you’re a little masochistic like that.
it’s understandable. it’s logical if people consider where you came from.
touch starved and emotionally isolated. self-sabotaging and horrible at changing things. you're emotional in turn, and you don't always look at the logic behind emotional reactions. you think routines and items for your self-care will solve the problem.
they don't. your injuries since childhood requires more than that. it cycles. and you're not always aware of how they play out in your life since 1.) you're a workaholic, 2.) you're not present with yourself, and 3.) you're shit at compromise.
my thing is, you never really took notice over how others reacted to you. you know. you never noticed how people were willing to let you be safe and sound; only for you to feel antsy and rip that away from yourself. you never noticed how avoidant you were; always with running shoes on, hands tightening around the fabric of your pants. it’s the same hands you shook your bully’s hand with a decade later, your teeth grinding against each other.
(he died a decade later. you confessed to me that you were happy about that. six feet in the grave. you told me that you were a monster. i don’t think so. i just think you just never grew up.)
you’ve been a victim, yes. but you’ve also hurt others too. and you’re aware of that fact.
sex, drinks, and being neck-deep in your feelings. you’re tired. you want to feel things. you have addictions you don’t really talk about, but it’s there. you isolate yourself because you don’t want things to end up like your ex, so.. you’ve thrown yourself into flings and one night stands here and there. you’ve went into surface level relationships. things that could scratch an itch for you.
you've thrown yourself into something like that again. you've kept doing it; told others that "i don't really expect anything when i give so why should others expect anything from me".
that's unfair. you didn't see it until now.
but this. this is. this isn’t a fling. this is like a fucking mirror that you can’t take at times. it's anything but a fling or a one night stand.
it's strange and bewildering and confusing. it's lovely, but it's also hell. because now you're snapped rudely awake.
you’ve only just now noticed how many people had felt nauseous, hands shaking; re-experiencing the worst moment of their life only for you to redirect it onto yourself. you know you do. you know you’ve hurt people, and you feel like absolute shit for it.
behind the makeup, pretenses, and soft air you have around you; behind pretending to have grown up, to take care of others, your passive-aggression being unnoticed (because you micromanage yourself), bitterness has built up.
you haven't grown out of your early twenties though. look at your actions.
you’re dating a girl thirteen years younger than you, and she’s effortlessly pointing out all of the flaws you’ve had since your twenties.
she’s twenty. she’s beautiful and gorgeous and her smile is lovely. she laughs, she’s genuine, and she’s.. almost pure. she’s vulnerable and she loves you.
her status says: i heed the word of wounded dogs; my pain becomes my strength.
you think you don’t deserve her.
sometimes, you think that she perceives your mental issues requires simple effort. but it’s a lot more than effort; it’s medical and chronic and you’re unable to be there and present.
your communication about that though? absolute shit.
she needed you there, you know. you couldn’t be around for it because of your brain zaps and medicine withdrawal.
you weren’t kidding when you said she.. was your joy. is your joy. she can’t be though. you know she can’t. it’s not fair on her, and you’re worried about burdening her. she already developed resentment, the last thing you wanted was to hurt her.
you two talked.
you wanted her to live. you couldn’t be what she needed. and what she needed, you’re aware of this too well, is the bare fucking minimum and you couldn’t even give her that.
she was.. she wanted you to meet in the middle. she heard you out. a part of you felt like she was manipulative, but she wasn’t. she was just.. being honest. you needed to remember that she was twenty and that you’re thirty-three.
she loves you, but you don’t love yourself. you’re disgusted with yourself.
she is the unconscious mirror and representation of everything you’ve hated about yourself. you say you wished you met her when you were in her twenties, that you two could’ve been unstoppable.
she just says: we met in our own time; whatever happens. we communicate with each other.
at first, it was a refreshing breeze. it was something light; something… easy.
and then things went to shit because of your own communication issues. guilt constantly piles up on you, and so you’re trying to cope ouwardly using your senses. but it still looms over you.
god has a strange, strange sense of humor in that light.
you think you’re an absolute monster, don’t you? you say that the guilt has been eating you alive. but you haven’t.. changed. not fully. you change; stop midway, and then do it all over again.
the only reason why you’ve gotten away with it is because you managed to soften it. you’re self-aware. you say all the right things but your actions are shit. you say you’re worried you haven’t been able to give back as much as she does, but you sometimes keep her second-guessing everything.
she points out that your communication needs to be worked on.
you know. you’ve hurt her, and you know that. this relationship is heavy and you almost want to revert back to your bad habits of just flinging yourself to the next person, but things like this has happened before. things were ripped away from you.
there’s no other way around it.
you agree, but.. how can you communicate if you’re not even present with yourself? when emotions are there as a burst of energy, you can’t even control it at times.
all your life you had to constantly take care of others. you’re only just now breaking out of it.
you don’t notice you’re repeating the same cycle you had with your bully. with your ex. with yourself. you didn’t take the time to introspect and contemplate; but now is the time.
honesty without kindness is brutality. kindness without honesty is manipulation. and you are afraid of being honest. you’re afraid to be present. you’re afraid, and you know it. you’re constantly hiding behind your health issues in favor of letting your emotions dictate your actions, and that’s a problem.
you’re self-aware how bad this looks on you. you’re aware and you keep running away.
yes, we get it. you have severe mental and physical issues that you constantly face. you have a million things thrown at you at all times; job, health, family, friends, and pets. there’s always something happening, something is going on. C-PTSD, ADHD, DPD, and a whole others more listed down the line.
yet, in the background, you hide your problematic behaviors with other close friends. you hide your degradation. you hide the consequences of your actions. you self-sabotage and it’s an upward climb with a boulder fucking hurled your way.
you want to know why?
because these are complex things; things outside of your control, and things of your doing. at the moment, you did this. and you’re trying to fix it, which is good!! good for you!! it’s been long since overdue!!!! all of your habits and patterns, all of the things that previously bought you comfort is/has been uprooted!
here’s my thing: this is just sad.
the thing is that you’re not being honest with yourself. you’re burying your grief in working yourself to death. there’s no dirt when you bury your grief six feet into the ground.
you’re blind to see that though.
instead of dirt, there are maggots. you’re not burying it, you’re letting maggots fly and eat off your skin. your shovel has chipped off at this rate, and there’s no one in that casket except you. you’re in denial. you ignore your issues until they blow up in your face. you're too aware, it's not an easy fix, etc etc. okay. sure.
but even with all of that, it's not an excuse. you're not taking accountability. at least not yet. not sure if this social media break will help you, but we'll have to see.
you know, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. i just hope you make it there before backing out of it.