I’ve been carrying this sadness alone for a while, and it’s been fine, I’ve been okay. But now I would love to have someone reach a hand out to me, and walk through this with me. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. I’m so tired.
I’ve been going through a few things, things I haven’t told anyone I’m struggling with. I feel quiet and withdrawn. I can’t seem to reach out even though I want to. And no one can see what I’m going through. I’m still good at hiding my deepest and truest feelings. I can’t seem to speak out. I can’t even write about it here. The one place I can be completely open and honest.
There are moments where the sadness is so great that even when you’re being verbally attacked, all you can do is stand there, unable to move. The words seem to float over you and disappear into nothingness. There’s no more space for anymore sadness.
That’s where I am. I’m hurting, and wish someone could see through me and hear my silent cry for love and care. Someone who will look deeply into my eyes and really notice me. But how can they, when I’m hiding.
There’s a hole inside me that I can’t fill myself no matter how hard I try.
Before starting therapy, I pretty much kept to myself. My feelings, my thoughts. They belonged only to me, and I didn’t share them with anyone. I was always the shy and reserved one. It protected me. It worked for me. Yet at the same time, it didn’t really work. It might have sheltered me from rejection, but it also ate me up inside. I tried to open up a few times, but just ended up getting hurt. Further reinforcing that it wasn’t safe to reveal the deepest parts of myself.
Even in primary school, I was a shadow. When I tried to make friends, and join the other children, I’d just get mocked, teased and called horrible names. So eventually I stopped trying. What was the point. I still remember the day I got my first friend. I was eating my lunch on a step, overlooking some children playing. A girl came to sit next to me and asked my name. We shared my lunch, and from that day we became best friends. I think she was the first friend I ever had. I was never allowed to go visit her at home though (my dad was very controlling- “only protecting me” in his words- when I actually needed to be protected from him). Then we moved to a new city again, and I never heard from her, or saw her again. I didn’t want to get attached to anyone again after that, and I don’t know if I ever did, as I can’t remember the next year or two.
I went to go watch the sunset on the beach today. It’s one of my favourite self-soothing practices. Usually it makes me feel better. It brings me peace. I feel at one with nature, and like I’m not alone in this world. But tonight I just felt this deep sadness the entire time. At first I didn’t understand why, and just tried to push it away. To be mindful of the beauty surrounding me. And then it came. Memories of the same way I felt so often throughout my life. Memories of moments where I felt so alone, with so much sadness buried deep, but that I couldn’t express or verbalize. Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to show emotions. Both my dad and then step-mother hated any display of emotion, other than happiness. But I was hardly ever happy, so I had to pretend that I was. When I went to my biological mom every second weekend, I watched my step-dad hurt her, and occasionally my little sisters as well. I couldn’t show my fear and hatred toward him. I couldn’t protect them. I was scared he would hurt them even more, and that he’d hurt me too. But he never did. I think he was scared of my dad. He was very cruel to me though. Men (monsters) like him, usually are. He also hated displays of emotion. It was a trigger for him. So there were many tears left uncried. So much hurt with nowhere to go. So many secrets with no one to tell. That pattern has followed me ever since.
It was only when I started therapy in March last year, that the pattern got interrupted. Opening up to my therapist felt amazing. She didn’t judge, she didn’t tell me to “stop being a baby”, or get angry with me for expressing my feelings. She didn’t punish me. I felt safe with her. Since then, I’ve become more open to more people. Only to a certain extent though. I knew what to share, and what to keep hidden. Every now and then though, I’d become brave and say more than I should.
In group on Tuesday, I was in a bit of a manic state (I had been in that state for a few days already). We had the usual “check in”. I was a bit late, as I had to go pick up a friend, so when I got back to group, the check in was already underway. Other than the usual check in, we also had to pick an animal that represents us, and tell the others why we chose that animal. When it was my turn, and started sharing, I got interrupted by one of the guys. He argued with me about the correct name for the animal I had chosen. I was so embarrassed and just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want to make it known though how I really felt in that moment, so I argued back. And then I just shut down and let the next person share. It’s taken me a while to start opening up in group. But now with this, I feel it’s not okay to do that anymore. I’ll still connect to the few people I’ve really grown to care about, before group, during the break, and afterward. But I don’t want to open up during the group anymore.
Jasmine and I spent the day together yesterday. Usually when I’m with her, we speak openly about our thoughts and feelings as they come up. But this time I couldn’t. I pretended that everything was okay the whole time, that I was happy. I have to pretend with the dad and current step-mother anyway, so it’s easy. Easy to pretend, difficult to deal with internally.
I just don’t want to be vulnerable anymore. My blog is my space to be open, but in the offline world, I want to stay away from that. I had a great therapy session on Wednesday. But then on Thursday, my manic phase was over, and I went straight down into the depths. And since then I’ve been feeling this need to protect myself from the world.
My younger parts, especially, have been struggling. They need me to take care of them, protect, and love them. They can be vulnerable with the adult me. They only need me. This song is my message to them. It just seems to fit.
You feel a million miles away
Each day drawing us further apart
It seems we’re pushing one another away
Then trying desperately to cling on
Is there something left to save?
I wish I could take your tears away. I wish I could take away your hurt.
I need you to know, that just because I wasn’t crying, didn’t mean I didn’t feel anything.
I felt so much inside. I felt it all. I still do. I just didn’t know how to release it without falling apart. You say that I don’t always have to be the strong one. But I wanted to be strong for you. I still do. But the truth is, I’m not all that strong. And I’m so sorry.
When I first met you, I didn’t know that you would become my deepest love. You crept into my heart and became my world. I won’t forget how it felt to have your hand in mine. How it felt to kiss you and lie in your arms. To hold you in mine.
When you held onto me this morning as we said goodbye, I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to beg you to stay with me, and for things to remain the same. I hoped that I would wake up and realize it had just been a nightmare. But it isn’t, is it? I didn’t ask you to stay and come back with me. Because I knew we are doing the best thing for us both. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Watching you walk away, broke through every defense I had.
No one is to blame. Time just wasn’t on our side. The connection we share will never fade away. Time can’t take that away from us. I’ll never give up on you. I’ll always be close.
You’re my best friend. My soulmate. I love you. Forever.
Being ignored. The story of my life. But do you think I’m used to it? No, it still fucking hurts.
I’m the odd one out. I’m the one whose voice doesn’t matter. Who doesn’t get asked whether I want to do something with them… Only to find out that day, from my uncle (not even them) that they’re going away for the day or weekend. I won’t always want to go with, but sometimes I would like to… And I would appreciate just being asked at least.
Trying to have a conversation, but getting interrupted by someone else, and suddenly it’s like I don’t even exist anymore. And they want to know why I don’t want to spend much time with them. Seriously? What’s the point when I’m either ignored, talked over, get mocked, or subjected to listening to inappropriate things. God help me when I try to express and tell them how it makes me feel. Showing any negative emotions, and it becomes a shit storm. I get yelled at and made to feel like a nothing.
I know I’m a burden. I know I’m an adult. But in those moments I feel like that past child all over again. I’m supposed to be part of this family too. But I’m always left feeling ignored. They even forget I’m around sometimes, and aren’t ashamed of admitting that. Oh man, I feel so loved and special.
It’s not just family either.
But you know what? I just don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m not going to ask for what I want or need ever again. I give up.
I’m not human. I’m not a person. I’m just a burden.
For the past week, I’ve been depressed most of the time. I can’t seem to shake it. I don’t even know where I am sometimes. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion. Feeling disconnected from everyone. I just want to be alone. It’s like someone else is living in my head, my body. Empty one minute, then in tears the next.
I’m thinking that maybe I should switch my medication, or increase the dosage. Because I can’t carry on this way.
I’m going to go watch a movie with Jasmine tonight. One that I’ve been so excited to see, and have been waiting months for. But now I feel nothing. I don’t even want to go tonight. But I’ll have to force myself.
This time of year, I feel the grief of everyone I have lost through the years. Too many people. Some gone too soon. Others leaving a broken heart in their shadows as they walk away.
Tonight is one of those moments of intense grief. Memories drifting through my mind. The pain and hurt proving that I’m still alive and breathing. Even though I don’t want to be.
I wish I could scream out loud. Swear at the universe. Instead, I scream on the inside. Because I don’t have that voice that allows me to express these emotions in as powerful a way as I feel them on the inside. So they remain there. Where only I can hear them.
These waves of grief wash over me. Pulling me under. Drowning me. But I fight for the surface. I fight for that elusive air.
