This is a personal update:
Not sure where to start other than letting you know I’ve been pretending to be OK, but I’m not, not at all. I’ve tried thinking positive, tried keeping busy, filled my life with beautiful experiences, but this time none of that worked. It’s like placing a band-aid over a gushing wound without sewing it up first- useless. Recently we’ve experienced two close family deaths in as many months and there’s been problems emerging at home. There’s also been other things, possibly the most significant was a broken long term friendship several years ago that resulted in myself experiencing social anxiety and trust issues for the good part of a year, add to that a string of family deaths and health issues on my husband’s side, and family strife relating to a contested will on my own family’s side and you have one murky life-cocktail. It’s all taken it’s toll. I’m emotionally and physically exhausted. I’ve been told this thing I have is complex trauma, some generic label meaning too-much-pain. I dunno… I hate labels- they are all ill-fitting and useless.
I’ve always been “OK” until now, until the last few months, but this goes back years if I’m completely honest, I just didn’t realize the slope I was on . And so recently, much to my surprise, everything broke somehow. I hate being like this because previously I was always the strong one, the one helping people through the tough stuff, the mother, the one with good advice and endless patience, showing kindness and always willing to show love. Now I’m helpless and hopeless and closed off, and nothing. Jess is just as broken as the rest of the world. I would like someone to blame for this, and blamed my husband a little, but he’s only partially responsible for where I am at today. His neglect, laziness, and general obliviousness contributed significantly, yes, I felt I had to pick up the slack – thought I could…until I couldn’t anymore. But I chose to overload myself, I chose to try and do everything rather than push him to support more and now I find myself here, in this nothing place and I’m quite alone.
Therefore the only person I can safely blame is myself. I blame myself for my stubbornness, my need to please, my blindness, for my naivety, my dumb fucking innocence, for trusting people I shouldn’t. I tend to love others easily, and readily reach out because I see a reflection of my own hidden brokenness in them, this occasionally gets me in trouble, and makes me very vulnerable. I’m lucky some people are kind- some- like my friend from a few years ago weren’t and took all they could get from me emotionally. I’ve been trying to avoid multiple uncomfortable truths about myself for years – not going to go in detail about those here. I recently took up running, and that’s a psychologically revealing thing isn’t it? I started seeing through my own shit pretty quickly after realizing that fact. I still run btw… I can’t stop.
You are the darkness in my head
The devil on my shoulder
And the breath on my neck
You are the shadow eternally connected to me
You are the undefinable…
You are fear
When I wrote it, I pretended this poem was just about fear, and it is, but it’s about more than that. I wrote it in my head on one of my jogs, the words swirling round and round in my mind, while something viciously snapped at my heels. I wasn’t just running from fear, was running from other monsters too- but I’m not going to talk about those, or about them… because yes, even the people we love/loved once can be monsters sometimes. One of those monsters helped show me the truth- maybe someday I will find the courage to thank them.
Through all this I’ve been trying to put on a brave face, because no one wants to be friends with a woman who cries all the time. It’s sad but true. We tend to practice self-isolation to spare others the indignity of witnessing our pain. It’s getting harder to do that that now, especially since I lost my grandfather. In the week after I couldn’t seem to stop crying. I keep seeing his face as he died. I tried closing my eyes when it happened, but those stupid eyes wouldn’t stay closed. I remember feeling an awful conflict in myself when he first stopped breathing. I wanted him to be at peace but I wanted him to start breathing again and stay with us, and I felt guilty for feeling both. How does one EVEN process that?
I can’t… I just can’t. I can barely breathe sometimes. I was traumatized by it, and I’ve gotten flash backs since. I can never un-see death now- and I’ll never be innocent again. it makes one feel pathetic and weak and kind of dead too.
Do you know there’s a two month waiting list for free counselling in this country, so I guess I will just have to suffer through this, harden up, sort myself out and try not to drag my poor friends down in the meantime. My head tells me maybe I should just avoid my friends, because I don’t want to be a burden and that’s all I feel like at the moment. That heavy weight around other people’s shoulders. I feel so damn empty and so bloody choked up at the same time- what the hell is with that!?
Tell me this is normal, tell me I’m not alone. Life used to be so easy, so blessed, so beautiful and now all there is, is this massive abyss before me, and its empty blackness reflects my own self.
If you’ve been going through hard times…well I can assure you though our situations may be quite different, YOU are NOT alone, and like you I hate this place too.
Yes, I know there will be light, there will be joy again someday but all I want do is run and hide and pretend I’m not completely fucked up right now. Yes, I know, it’ll be OK, and that I have someone above, looking out for me. I do know this truth in my emotion-torn soul and feel it in my heart. I just have to look up, rise to my feet and start walking…OK so, I might have a limp for a while, but that’s life isn’t it. We all carry wounds and scars but healing always comes. It has to…