99 Problems - Number Two

This is definitely a problem for me. Approaching a subject, whether it is because I feel hurt, ignored, mad, taken advantage of, used, dismissed, sad or whatever emotion may happen to be the result of another action. Before I approach the subject I experience an intense feeling of fear. I'm not sure why, except that maybe past experience has proven to me that sharing my feelings is wrong. I tend to latch on to a first experience and will assume that all experiences will be the same. While I know intellectually this isn't necessarily true, again, experience keeps proving to me, that yes, most times this is true.

I can rarely express any emotion that isn't positive without tears or without anger. And often times the tears are when I am angry, and the anger is when I am hurt. What normally happens if I have a problem I want to discuss with someone or if I feel like there is something that needs to get out in the open, I will be filled with fear. Fear of rejection, fear of indifference, fear of attack, fear of yelling, fear of dismissal, and fear of the ever famous eye roll. That fear then turns into anxiety, as most difficult emotions do when you are not allowed to release them. The anxiety turns to panic and before you know it I'm sick. Physically sick and taking medication to try to control this tornado inside of me. The problem is I don't want it to be this way, and as much as I don't believe anything in this life, I somehow manage to muster up a tiny bit of hope. Hope that it doesn't have to be this way. Hope that I can be brave and voice my feelings and they might be heard. They might be understood.

So, I do. Not even midway through I start to see all my initial fears becoming realities, which reaffirms that I shouldn't share my feelings with anyone. Midway through I start to absorb the emotions of the other person. The anger. The denial. The yelling. That I'm not cut out for the type of communication where people aren't allowed to communicate. I'm not cut for the type of communication where you can't actually say what you feel, without being condemned.

In the end, I do what I always do. I write and turn in all inward. Each time it chips away at my connection with other people. It validates my mistrust. And it sets me apart in a way, that getting back ends up being a long, hard, painful journey. One that I start to doubt is even worth the trip anymore.

Simple? Nothing is simple.

In unrelated, but somewhat related news, I took a step today. I finally responded to my mother's email. After the last two months of letting it eat me alive, this morning something happened that made me realize when you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. When you have nothing to lose, what's left to fear?

It was fairly short and straight to the point. I stressed why I hadn't contacted her, what I thought of her actions and behavior and I also expressed that I was not expecting her approval or understanding. That these were simply my feelings and why I have been avoiding contact.

I'm not sure what will happen next. I'm not sure I even care what happens next.

Hope, who only has 97 problems to go...

Back to Reality.

Last week I got to escape for a mini vacation with the BF. It's amazing what a little sand, sea, and ocean air can do to calm the nerves. Aside from the 100 degree heat plus humidity, which gave me some serious cankles on the second to last day, it was a nice break from reality. If only I could have taken the sand, sea and ocean air home with me...

My first day back was filled with some mysterious stomach ailment, a panic attack, and physical exhaustion which had me asleep by 2pm. Switching gears is not only difficult for me, but also time consuming, as the only way it seems to work out well is if I take the slow and steady approach. Being home seems to have brought on this bizarre feeling of impending doom. It doesn't make sense and I can't often rationalize it with thoughts or words. All I can do is feel it. And when I do, it feels like shit.

I had my umpteenth (only because I can't remember what number this is) visit with The Head Doctor this afternoon, and I do feel slightly better, which is good because maybe that means I'm getting my money's worth. We touched on a lot of things so far, which makes it difficult sometimes to remember them all. Today the gist was more on why I feel this impending "doom" and why I feel this crazy need to leave, run away, start over etc...every three years or so.  Three years does seem to be my limit. I think Doll Making is the only job I've ever done that has lasted longer than that. Most everything though, work, relationships, place of residence, all have a three year shelf life. Even if they've actually lasted longer, three years is when it all starts that downward slide. It's like a three year itch, and I think part of my recent unsettled, anxiety ridden, and irritated state may have something to do with the fact that for the first time in my life, I'm not scratching that itch. I'm not impulsively quitting my job and jumping into something unpredictable. I'm also not ending a relationship, selling all my belongings and moving to another state. I'm just sitting here, doing this. You know what it feels like when you have an actual itch? Have you ever tried NOT scratching it? It'll just about drive you up a wall. Right now, I'm about half way up.

We also touched on that feeling of not belonging. Ironically, I didn't have that or the feeling of doom, while away. In a place that was mostly foreign to me, I felt calm and safe. Mostly. It wasn't until I got home that I felt as if I had woken up in a place I didn't belong. It was like one of those dreams where you suddenly realize you were supposed to go to work and you never did. Your heart sinks into your stomach, and the adrenaline starts to flow, causing your heart to beat out of your chest. Only it's not a dream, and I really have no idea where I'm supposed to be, only that I feel like it isn't here, and here isn't safe.

Somehow, these things are tied together. It could be because I'm so stuck on the pattern of things that I can feel deep in my bones that this... this, is NOT MY pattern. This is not how I do things. It could be that staying put, rather than stopping, running and reinventing, is throwing my whole being off kilter. Or it could be something entirely different. Either way, it's pretty obvious that if I'm not going to keep repeating that pattern, that I have to do something else. I'm not sure what yet though.

My homework is to pay attention to those times that I do feel at ease and like I'm right where I'm supposed to be. And also to pay attention to those times that I feel most uneasy and most like I don't belong. Seems simple enough, although for me it probably won't be. Patterns are easy. Linking and connecting is not. I don't always have the easiest time identifying my emotions or showing them appropriately, never mind trying to actually connect them to a real life event. Homework is hard, and as a dear friend said just recently, so is living.


Hope, who is still moving forward but at a snails pace...slow and steady.