write about what hurts, they say. and that’s what i’m trying to do. trying to compartmentalize all these emotions and thoughts and realizations and speculations into something more rational and understandable, because it all feels so complicated and irrational and perplexing.
why is it that i can still feel this sad and angry and frustrated and lost when on the surface, it’s all different and better and safer? why can i still feel swallowed at times. drowning in a sense of helplessness and worthlessness. wondering where i went wrong. if i’m still making the right choices. if i need to be somewhere else. if the fact that i continue to stay says something about me as a dreamer and a person. if it’s taking a toll on my sense of hope and confidence and courage and trust.
why does it feel like I’m constantly giving second chances and trying to give people the benefit of the doubt. banking on the fact that things will get better. that people will treat you better. that you’ll be more cherished. that you’ll find a role more suitable for you and your aspirations.
that something will just click and you’ll belong.
and you’ll know. you’ll feel that 110% deep in your bones and in your heart and soul. that you made the right choice. that everything will FEEL right. the people around you will love you. genuinely. truly. they will want you and they won’t shy away from saying it and proclaiming it. that they’ll fight to keep you and give you what you desire. and won’t hold it against you and talk shit about you behind your back. that you’ll also feel a sense of accomplishment and reward with what you’re actually doing. that it’ll feel like you’re always learning. that you’re invested. that every win feels genuine. and like its your own. and it won’t matter that you think about it all the time. that you’re willing to lose a bit of yourself and your time and your day to make it a tiny bit better. to respond faster. to execute more effectively. that it will all be worthwhile. because you got to create. and contribute. and add value and make impact.
and it will all be worth it.
that for once, they’ll see the amount of effort and care and thought you put in. and they’ll have put in that much as well, so they’ll understand. and they’ll value you for it. they will cry for you. for when you win together. for when it’s hard. for when you’re on top of the world. and they’ll KNOW and SAY that they couldn’t have done it without you. they will see you brought something unique and irreplaceable to the table. even when it was hard for you and confusing. and when you didn’t want to - that you pushed through and persevered and set aside part of yourself for the “greater good”. for your team. for them. and they wouldn’t dare question your loyalty. they would feel bad and try to correct for how they treated you and yours in the past. that they will know how valuable you are. and see you as not another cog in the machine - in “their” machine, as if you’re not part of the integral bone structure - but a critical component of the heart and soul of the organization. and that would be enough to inspire them to change and be better and do better.
these are just thoughts. emotions and observations that you’re desperately trying to attribute to the leaders’ faces. their expressions. when they stare coldly. when they half-smile. when they hesitate and pause. in those loud silences when you’re begging them to say something – anything. even when they do smile. and it feels so false and deceiving and manipulative. when you can feel them looking. you wish with all your soul and might that that’s what they’re thinking. you wish so hard that you believe that’s what they’re thinking. and before you know it, you’ve blurred the line between reality and fantasy. what you hope and dream and what is actually happening. do i have rose-colored lenses on? or am i just perceptive and do actually see below the surface? that that is ACTUALLY how they feel and they’ve just had years of experience to hide it well. but you can tell. you can tell because you’re good and you can feel it and you know.
if you can feel it, how could they not? they must. they must and be forced to keep it at bay and hold it back, because duty calls. because that’s what they have to do.
it’s not because they don’t care or they don’t see or they don’t understand and empathize. it’s because they have to. they have to set all that aside. and they feel horrible for it. they see people suffering and scared and lonely and hurt and wanting more. and they go home to their families and to sleep every night, unable to shake those thoughts and expressions from their minds. they constantly think about how they can reconcile the two. how they can build an empire and take care of and celebrate the people who built it up with and for them all at the same time. instead of thinking about how to exploit and take advantage of and use and abuse. that they are all just as miserable, if not more, than you are when you return back to your place. and it’s empty and lonely. and you realize you don’t have anything. so you keep thinking about it. it hurts to think about and talk about. but you can’t help it.
you take all these things to blur the sensibilities and the effects of the sorrow and confusion, and yet that’s all you still think about. and choose to talk about. even when you can feel the fuel coursing through your veins. fuel that should make you feel happier and think about more beautiful things. purer things. the fuel romanticizes it all, so that you feel it more desperately. but somehow it makes you feel more alive. because it makes you feel like you care. and it gives you an outlet to feel and express how you feel. rather than struggle with it internally, trying to decide what parts to let out onto the surface during the day. while you’re there. trying to figure out if it hurts or helps to showcase those emotions. or if it’s better to keep it hidden. below a glass mirror. reflecting back what they want to see. the smiles, the earnestness. is it horrible for you to want them to hurt? to hurt as you feel like they’ve hurt you? or maybe it’s not them who has hurt you? it’s just the nature of things?
but even so - how desperate we are to want to pinpoint the blame somewhere. to find a scapegoat. so you pin it on them. you ask them silent questions. you demand silent answers. you stare into their eyes and at their wretched faces in hopes that you’ll see something deeper. that you’ll communicate something darker and more desperate. and they’ll understand and know. and hurt and plead. and do all they can to try to make it better when we all know they can’t.
but it’s all in your mind, isn’t it?
and the worst part is, you think it is changing you. making you cold. training you to be stoic. and like stone. stone cold. it doesn’t hurt. it doesn’t matter. at the end of the day, you are still you. they are still them. this organization will stand or sink but it’s not attached to you. you don’t have to stay. you don’t have to contribute. it’s all your choice. why do you attach yourself? you don’t have to? but that almost makes it worse. because that means each day, you choose them. over and over again. you choose them despite the pain and the suffering and the tortured feelings of hurt and anguish and despair. so what does that say about you? you masochist. why don’t you change if you hate it so much? and you wonder if it’s because that’s just who you are.
the sadness is part of you.
it’s not because of them or the environment or the organization. it’s because of your mind and your heart and the darkness that enshrouds you. you are like this because of you. they are trying to make you better and do better. and they are already doing their best in doing all of things you’ve thought about and attributed to them. but you still can’t come to terms with it and see it, because of your own warped perception of reality. because you’ve idealized something impossible. the effort is there. you’ve just become so preoccupied and consumed by this sense of darkness and betrayal and paranoia and simultaneous hopefulness and hopelessness that you see endless rain and gasoline and furious fire and brimstone in everyone and everything. even when that's not there.
and that is what terrifies you. the thought that it’s all you at the end of the day. that you will leave and go elsewhere and meet new people. and the cycle will repeat itself. you’ll end up in this same desperate place. this limbo of wanting to hold on to something that has actually come to mean so much while simultaneously become something you deny to care about. that you’ve gotten used to hating and complaining about. and want to get rid of and peel off of you like dead skin. it happens because it’s you. YOU are the one who has to change.
that’s what hurts. coming to terms with what is reality and what is perception. but in truth, isn’t all reality perception? we experience the world around us and the people around us through our own minds and eyes. nothing is really there except what you experience yourself. so in a way, it is all you. and if it’s all you, you can fucking change it. and change your attitude and actions towards it. so why do you choose darkness, laine? why do you keep choosing darkness when you can choose light? wasn’t there a time when you did constantly choose light? what changed? how do i go back? how do i fix it? how do i make it stop hurting? why do you draw close to this hurt? and like to wallow in it?
does it make you feel more alive?
perhaps that’s it. because it reminds you of how much you can feel. and the depth of those emotions? is that it? you’re drawn to the human-ness of it all? the sense of feeling like you aren’t a robot and you have a heart that can feel pain? and to con yourself into thinking that you feel all of that but just don’t express it. don’t choose to express it. or share it. or have the inability to. and that’s why they can’t see. that’s why they do what they do. does that make you feel better? is that it?
