Rationalizing the Irrational

“I can only wonder how touching you would make me feel, but if I take that chance right now, tomorrow will you want me still?”

I started writing this yesterday, as you can tell I wrote a quote from a song and nothing else. My mood the last few days has been unstable, to say the least. I have been bouncing between excited and almost hyper to extreme exhaustion with no real reason. I was a bitch to a lot of people over the last few weeks, including towards myself. I said last night that I thought I deserved to be punished for my past, my present, and I suppose the future as well. Yesterday I hated myself, pure anger, rage and hate. I have never felt that intense before. I realize that the 7 year thing is coming up sooner than later and I am hoping to get my emotions in check after that. 

It seems like it is always one bad memory after another causing my anxiety, or an event, like a holiday that have triggers of their own to upset me. 

Being smacked with the realization that I can run but never get away from the skeletons that plague me is a horrific idea that I reckon I am going to have to come to terms with, before I end up in a psych ward restrained chemically and physically because of the thoughts that have been surfacing regarding my little demons. When you scare yourself, you should be worried. In these moments I know I am capable of anything and that is where the fear arises. Is tonight the night I kill myself? Likely not, but yesterday was a different story, and intense story full of emotions of love, lust, anger and overall pain. 

The sun is out again today which means it’s going to get cold again. Funny how the clouds lift and the warmth of the sun can’t penetrate a Canadian winter without the assistance of the clouds holding the heated air down. 

Yes, going off topic, not that I ever have a topic, I just ramble on and people read. It’s interesting that people care about people they don’t even know and spend hours every day reading blog posts, tweets and status updates on Facebook. 

Anyway, that realization that my thoughts will haunt me wherever I go is truly scary. I don’t want to deal with this stuff, I don’t know how and somehow when I do work on dealing with it, it’s like cutting open an old wound, and it just causes thicker, deeper scars. Do I really need more scars? I have no clue how people like Shawn Hornbeck and Jaycee Duggard are so able to move forward in life and enjoy things. I assume it must be a façade, a lie, to get all the naïve non-victims of the world to just accept that everything is great and that they are strong and brave and can move on. I can’t have moments of silence, moments with my own thoughts, because those thoughts drift back to a past that I can’t escape. The chains may no longer hold me firm, but the psychological bindings are even stronger then the physical ones I used to deal with. 

How can I feel so dead inside, yet experience so much pain? Does death really hurt this badly? Am I actually just so alive that the feelings floating by take the air from my lungs and cause tears to roll down my face because living is just that overwhelming? I am overwhelmed. I know that.

I hate doing all of this “healing” and self-reflection alone. I want to be held when I cry. I want someone to wipe away my tears. I want someone to kiss me as I am breaking down. I want to know that I am safe with myself because when I am dangerously out of control I have a rock to hold me up, to do what’s best for me even if I hate it or could hate them because of it. I need that strength and that love. I don’t just need it, I want it. 

I also want to love someone back; I want to show my respect and my devotion. I want to kiss someone passionately. I want stupid promises like never going to bed mad. I want someone to make love to me and I want to make love back. 

Maybe I am placing a fair bit of my identity into the hands of someone else, but is it really so bad? Can we be over-loved? Most of all, can we over experience the sanctity we find in the arms and hearts of the one who was created for us? 

I never wanted to be loved (and I often still don’t) but lately it seems like love may be the answer I am looking for it may be the one thing that holds me up when I stumble. It may be the death of a part of me I no longer need and the revival of a large part of me that has been lost for so many years.

Who knows the answers to any of these questions aside from my soul?

Maybe, I have the answers and it’s the questions I have wrong! 

I recommend anyone read this short story called The Yellow Wallpaper. It delves into psychosis and the way it was once dealt with. Although things really haven’t changed all that much, I often feel like the narrator of this story. The contempt she has for that yellow wallpaper grows on her, it eats at her and just like my past, it eventually destroys her.