Monday, May 19, 2014

hurt

i've cried off and on all day.

lately i've been struggling with some really powerful emotions.

i almost - almost - wish for those mind numbing days of strict depression where i felt nothing but endless seas of sadness. almost. (but not really - even they came with a price)

today i feel really hurt. someone very close to me touched on a sore subject and in effect poured lemon juice into my raw, emotional wound. i went to counseling distraught. susan and i sat on the floor and the first things out of my tear stained face were, "i'm such a loser." she listened and gently urged me on, eventually got me ice for my face to help me calm down, and later we were able to talk about some things in my life that i can add to help me feel like i'm doing more and add happiness to it. 

i left her office feeling ok but soon the tears took over again. i decided to do some opposite action - where you act in the opposite way of how you're feeling (as long as it's skillful) and so i went shopping for some presents i needed and then took myself to the movie belle (which was sooooo good!!) and finally out for some dessert. but still, i found myself huddled up in my dad's office crying, telling him what happened.

deep breath. i don't understand this time in my life. i've begged and pleaded with god to grant me understanding. little has come. breathing. and i feel so frustrated asking him for something that doesn't seem to be coming anytime soon - if at all ..... no, understanding will come, but why the wait? what is there for me to learn in the waiting when i have waited for years - literally years - to finally have dbt, to finally have answers to my seizures, to finally have some hold on my depression, to finally have my anxiety some what under control... isn't the wait over?

i feel so lost in my life - like i'm swirling around in a twister - a rag doll at the mercy of the winds. purposeless , drivenless , mindless , just a drifter . there have been times in my life where i have felt emptier, broken-er, but it was muted or dulled by the depression - it was like going through a tunnel and hearing the echo - you know that's not really what the sound sounds like - i guess i didn't realize i needed to brace for the impact of the real sound. because with the real sound comes the reality of the pain and the hurt and the frustration in bright, sharp, zinging colors and feelings. am i making any sense? am i painting this picture for you? or just painting the canvas black?

i feel the sadness of the day in my body. the weight on my chest. the pounding behind my eyes. the throbbing of my temples. the feathery lightness of my hands. all signs that i'm not well. not me. not here. 

i'm tired.


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