Sunday, May 16, 2010

If I'm That Strong, Why Did a Simple Thought Drive Me Over the Edge? Day 136

I don't want to let go! Please don't ask me to! I'm not ready. Please don't make me. I don't want to! It's too soon!

How is it that one small thing can break me down? If I'm really as strong as people say I am, how did I go from IMing my friend about fluffers, hoes, and sushi, having a good time to bursting into tears and breaking down to a panic attack over a generous gesture another friend made me? Do those things sound like an act of a strong person? I feel like such a fucking Pisces right now, and I can't stand it! I want it to go away. Why couldn't I hang onto even a little bit of the collectedness that I had when I was emotionally-dead? I held onto that for years, most of my life even. So why is there no trace of it left now?

My roommate told me that she's sad that things didn't work out for me the way I wanted it to but pleaded that I don't go back to closing myself up because it's unhealthy. She assured me that I'll find someone else who'll make me happy, and it's just better to feel things. I told her that I'm not going back to the old me because a small part of me believed her and still does. That doesn't mean that I'm not tempted to shut it off.

But when I was having that panic attack, though, unlike the other times I'd wish I can just shut everything off, my feelings, the pain, life, all of it, I wanted to hang on to it and not let it go because if I did, I'd be letting him go and I'm not ready for that, not yet. God, how fucking twisted is that? I even attach him to my panic attacks. And for what? The brief amount of time we had together when everything was emotional, intense, and he darted away twice? That's really what I miss? No, of course not. There's more there than I could ever articulate or express. It was a feeling and a connection I never had before. But I don't understand why it was there. Was it there to punish me? To dangle something in front of me only to take it away from me?

My body's exhausted. My thoughts are torturing me. My mind's scattered. My heart's aching for something I can't even wrap my head around. I feel broken. I promised my friend once that I won't breakdown. He was frustrated because he couldn't articulate his concern for me and it was difficult for him because he sees his mom suffering the same way. He knows what the pain and the hurt and overwork does to a person. He didn't want to see that happen to me. Even though he was trying to help me, I could feel how hurt he was over his situation with his mom. The burden gets to him, and it's tiring for him emotionally to feel bad for both of us and know that there's nothing he could do. He's helpless. He can't help his mom and he saw me following that same path. I reassured him that I'll be okay, and I mildly believed it. But I realized today that I broke that promise.

And I have a pulsating headache to remind me of that. Every ache in my body is rhythmically moving to the speed I type. My spine feels like it's ready to fall off, but my twisted and knotted muscles are keeping them intact like a dying but strong essence. My skin feels heavy. I feel like my body's on full alert so that it can feel the pain, the sharpness, the heaviness, the dullness, the lingering pain of how it felt echoing this after effect of weakness, my body feels ready to shut down but it's as though I'm paralyzed of any other will than to keep typing like a zombie with no intention to stop. I'm paranoid that this'll onset an ocular migraine and yet too weak to care. I'm drained of energy and find breathing to be strenuous but a worthwhile, exhausting task when I do breathe in which is more infrequent than it should be. The simple act of inhaling feels like I have to lift a ton that you'd think breathing out would be a sigh of relief, but I hold it in so I can rest a little because every action takes something out of me. It's bullshit that breathing is a relief. It's torture to feel like bringing in life force is taking something out of you. I feel like my lungs aren't working properly.

My friend reminded me that he and his wife are willing to let me live with them rent-free so long as I pay for food and utilities. The rest of my money would go to tuition. That's an incredibly generous and rare offer. How did I get so lucky to have such amazing friends? And why am I so hurt by it? What's wrong with me?

I started thinking about what it would be like if I left. I'd leave my life behind, a place where I built a home. As my friend's wife put it, "I built a sense of community." The truth is that I don't think I was fully conscious of that until she expressed it like that because I've never felt that way before. I've always had people that I care about, but being so emotionally-detached, they only meant so much to me. There are people I just met who mean more to me than people I've known my entire life because I'm more receptive now than I was then.

I don't want that slipping away for me. I'm not ready to let it go. But I wonder what else is really left for me here. I don't have a job. I don't go to school. Things are so bad that I go to the corner Burger King to use the bathroom because I can't afford toilet paper. I have less than $200 total. How much longer can I really sustain myself this way? And here I am offered this amazing opportunity. It's always difficult to rebuild and start a new life, but I've done it so many times except this is the first time it meant something to me. Even the emotional relationships I've developed are still more intangible than they should be. I hang out with people all the time, but the bond isn't nearly strong enough to make the decision this difficult. It certainly shouldn't be so painful that it should drive me to a panic attack. I was just thinking that if I leave, then I may never see him again. The end will be official and finalized. I'm not ready for that.

I get it. So it really affected me more than I expected or could've imagined. How can such a brief encounter be so powerful and resonate in me so deeply? How can a person I almost fell in love with, could've fallen in love with still have that much of an affect on me? It's been over a year now. Why are these feelings still lingering? Why won't it go away?

Do you want to know what the truth is? I came to a disturbing realization today, one that was plainly obvious to a friend of mine but one I've resisted for an outrageous amount of time. I didn't almost fall in love with him. I did fall in love with him. Why do I keep getting things like this so wrong? How could I have kept something like this from myself? Why would I keep it from myself? What a stupid, pointless, ineffective defense mechanism! What a coward I am to hide my own feelings from myself. I'm an excellent researcher except when it comes to my own life. What is it about me that makes me so afraid to face the truth?

It took me a fucking year and an outside perspective persisting and persisting and persisting as I stubbornly argued against it, vehement that he's wrong, that I almost loved him, almost, almost, almost, not actually, almost! He said I'm either stubborn or stupid, but he thought I was being stubborn. I felt like I had nothing to lose by admitting that I love him at this point because I'm already hurting it. It couldn't possibly be the defense mechanism that he believes it is because it isn't protecting me from anything. So if I was in love with him, I'd admit it. Maybe then I'll be able to heal. I basically logically deduced that his argument makes no sense. The truth is that I can't apply logic to this. I certainly wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe I would've admitted that I was in love with him if I was looking the problem right in the eye but I wasn't. And besides I've been spending all this time not dealing with how I feel. How can I honestly believe that I would've noticed something so major? Then again, how could I miss something so major?

As unthinkable and incredibly idiotic it is, it happened. "Just smile and no one will know. Not really know. Concealing can be my specialty." Sometimes I'm so good at it that even I manage to keep the truth from myself. I was wondering why I haven't been able to move on. I haven't dealt with it. I try and face it. It becomes less and less painful. I don't find myself confined to my room, alone, isolated, and mopey. I have responsibilities and priorities in my life that require my attention. I can't neglect it, so I push through the pain. It doesn't break me down, so I start to believe that I'm okay and that I've moved on. But the truth is that I haven't. I've just been lying to myself for all of these months, and I never bothered to explore for the truth. It was just easier this way.

I still wonder if I really fell in love with him because I've been telling myself for so long that I almost fell in love with him that the idea that I actually did, in fact, fall in love with him is such a new reality for me. Should it feel this new? Can a person really hide this kind of truth? I spend so much time analyzing how I feel than I spend less time embracing it or acknowledging it. No wonder why I can't tell the truth from the lie. I'm not looking at anything directly through its eyes.

Sometimes I have difficulty coping with the reality that I've liked him as much as I have. I feel like the time was too brief. He hurt me so much. I ended things so badly. I feel like he doesn't deserve these deep feelings I have for him. These kinds of bigoted predispositions probably restrict my thoughts a lot. I'm having difficulty accepting that I fell for a guy. How can I be open to the possibility that I could've fallen in love with him? I'm still not sure. I thought I was when I was on the phone with my friend, but without his assurance I just don't know. Shouldn't I be more certain than that?

The extreme reaction is undeniable. I broke down today as though I faced an earth-shattering reality. I wonder why I'm so confused about it now. When I get like this, I don't know how to face it. At least when I was crying and breaking down, I was dealing with it. There's this disconnect now. I have to wait until I'm receptive again to explore my feelings. That could take an unreasonably long amount of time, time I shouldn't waste. But I can't force, expedite, or demand the process to surface at will, nor do I want to. I just hope that when the opportunity strikes that I won't turn my back on it because my friend's right. I'm not ready to let him go yet.

I contradict myself. I say that I want to let him go, but I'm keeping myself from doing that. I've tried all the methods I know with failure. And I'm unwilling to try new things that make me uncomfortable. Maybe it's partly driven by fear, but I'm still not ready. Maybe I'll never be. Maybe I have to force myself. But it's not time yet. I can't explain it. He said it could take me two years maybe before I move on and wait until time heals this if I don't go out there and replace failure with success. I don't want to wait two years, but I think that's the right course of action for me and not because I'm afraid of putting myself out there. I feel like my intuition whispers to me by the idea that I let my emotions heal over an extended period of time.

I think it'll be good for me to be alone with my own thoughts anyways. I've spent my entire life being detached from them. I don't even recognize it for what it is. I want to be more intimate with myself and my own feelings before I introduce foreign ones into it.

Thank you for helping me see and face the truth. Just because I choose to take a different course of action doesn't mean that your efforts went in vain and that I took your wisdom lightly. I really did weigh them out. And you're right. You have done more for me than most people have. I'll never forget it.

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