There’s some pain that’s too fresh, too deep, too hurtful for me to even begin exploring yet.
Yesterday a cat in the rain set me off.
It took everything I had to not fall into a catatonic state afterwards. To seek out comedies. To pull up a laugh now and then (which felt more like choking on ashes, but the sounds came out). To not cry.
The sun is shining today but my mood is in the toilet. I feel in extreme danger of going down and never coming back up. I don’t know whether I should indulge myself in a cry or keep trying to NOT cry. Do I keep reaching for that smile even tho it feels like a pasted on comic face?
I want to dive into the pain now. Why try to pull myself out? The pain is there, I can feel it. It rarely goes away. I might as well OWN it rather than live this half-life.
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST SOMEONE JUST PULL THIS FUCKING SHIT OUT OF ME!!!!!!
My heart is punctured. it is leaking….
And I keep reaching for that fucking calm place in me because if I don’t….Oh, goddess, if I DON’T….
I do not want to be addicted to the mourning process, to wrap myself up in memories and ignore the here and now. I WILL fight it, and just for that reason: I’m not going to give myself something to mourn in the fucking FUTURE because I was too wrapped up in the PAST to see the NOW. Fuck that.
The more I fucking curse the stronger I fucking feel. USE that fucking anger! Maybe I just feel like I’m fucking doing SOMETHING when I curse. I’m not just fucking giving in and losing it. Maybe it’s just the active feeling from anger rather than the passive acceptance of fucking sorrow. Don’t care and maybe it’s not the best way to go, to pull on that to get thru the day but with no one fucking HELPING me right now I’ve got to fucking fall back on the only fucking thing that’s got me thru this fucking long!
FUCK you, world, and the horse you rode in on, too! Fuck you for making me care so much. Fuck you for being so fucking unjust. Fuck you for reminding me mercilessly about the atrocities committed every fucking minute of every fucking day. Fuck you fuck you and fuck OFF!
Adrenaline. Shaking. Fight or flight. I fight.
I know what this is and it’s ok: this is me taking care of myself. This is me making sure I won’t get hurt again anytime soon. This is me trying to LOVE myself, for fuck’s sake. I guess when you’re unwanted and ignored in your own family anger is an easy fall back for all the pain. It’s my way of standing up for myself and saying ‘hey, I’m here and worth something. don’t ignore me.’.
DON’T IGNORE ME.
Don’t pass over my pain, don’t belittle it. Don’t say you can’t do anything because a smile or friendly word can make the world of difference to me right now. Don’t say I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. Don’t say I’m being too emotional or overly dramatic. Don’t try to buy me off with food or clothes but not talk to me. Don’t tell me I’m crazy. Don’t lie to me.
…Somehow, some of that pain has eased now….