Medicated and numb

It's peculiar, the difference between feeling emotionally numb from total overload, and from taking a little white pill to stop feeling everything.

About 6am Monday morning I was awakened to a familiar, and non-too-fond of feeling; picture this.

You take a piece of glass.

Pound it with a hammer until you're left with nothing but shattered powder.

Now swallow.

Only, instead of it reaching your stomach, it goes to your kidney. (For those of you unfamiliar with the kidney area in your back, it's about two-to-three inches left or right of your spine, and deep)

Then, the glass shards dig themselves into your rather vital organ, and begin to scratch and scrape at your insides until it finally reaches your ureter, and you have to pass it in your urine.

Blood ensues.

And for days afterwards your organ aches, and just.. hurts.

I took the pain as long as I could- about an hour and a half, until I was digging my fingernails into the counter tops, and in so much pain I had surpassed the ability to cry.

Que the pill.

It apparently blocks your central nervous system, and stops it from firing off the, "HOLY SHIT, YOUR BODY IS FAILING" signal, allowing me to fall back asleep for another 8 hours.

I.. hate the feeling of being numb. But now that I have something to compare it to, I much prefer the medicated numb, where everything is hazy, and I can't quite see everything clearly.

It's easier to handle than the pain-filled, emotionally drained numb, where I wonder if I'll ever be able to climb out of the hole I'm sinking into..

I hate both..

But this one is more.. comforting. Like my brain is just fuzzy, and I can't quite discern what's happening.. versus knowing full well, and not being able to help not feeling.

I so much prefer physical pain to any emotional ones.. That may be because I've had more than my fill of emotional heartbreak these last few months, and things being cured so easily with blocking my nerve endings is a comforting feeling.. I know the pain will stop as soon as I do this one thing.

I stop feeling everything as soon as I toss my head back, and take it with water, as directed.

And when the physical pain ends, I know that that pretty much is the end of it..

I so much prefer the physical to the emotional.

I don't have to rely on people to get through physical pain. I can depend on myself alone for that.

I've been hurting so much lately..

I feel like I'm boring everyone around me. I don't want to burden them with being sad..

Because..

When I get used to them being there, and really rely on them..

That's when people are best known for their vanishing acts.

“The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain.”

Yaaarg!

My most recent difficulties in life have stemmed from my inability to match up my Intellectual Side and Emotional Side.
I can seen the logic in most situations; can gauge them, disconnect myself enough to reach the deeper meaning, and stifle my emotional side.
But today was just.. so hard. I heard myself speaking, knew my thoughts, everything, was irrational, overly sensitive, and immature.. but.. the deeper part of me just couldn't work up the effort to care. Yes, I was being irrational. Yes, I was blowing simple things out of proportion, but.. I am.. so tired of always being logical.. of not wanting to step on toes, of smiling, and shaking my head when people act like complete and total assholes.

I don't want to be on the back-burner of everyone's life anymore. I want to take priority to someone.. anyone..

I'm tired of being hurt, and people acting like dicks, and just accepting it as a part of life.

I want to be able to be irrational some of the time!

I want to be able to just cry, and have someone tell me it's okay, and they're sorry for whatever it was that they did, even if it doesn't make sense to apologize!

Is that really so much to ask for?

I'm still drowning.

My usual life preservers seem far-off, and hazy on the horizon.

I'm tired of fighting..

I'm tired of crying myself to sleep to melancholy jazz music..

I just.. am tired.

I want to sleep, and have someone hold me when I wake up, and tell me the world really is rainbows and butterflies like I try to see.

Am I finally growing up?

Is this how grown-ups see the world? Dull, and hurtful, each good time soon to be ruined by the next heartbreak, instead of hurtful sometimes, but overall good, and uplifting like I've tried to see?

Slacker

So, it's sad when life throws you so many curve balls, simply writing them down seems near impossible. Let alone remembering all the details to tell your shrink.
That's one.
I now have a therapist; she's amazingly sweet, and soft-spoken. But occasionally, it feels as if she's treating me like some animal that wandered into her yard, high-octave tone, hushed, sitting observing me as I emotionally gut myself in front of her.
I hate feeling like I'm whining to people, which is why I created this blog. As a way to get everything negative I'm feeling out of my head, so I don't drive myself to snapping point, break bit by bit, until I'm a neurotic mess doubled over in my jeep, shrieking to some unfortunate soul I picked up from a movie. (Love you always)
I feel like I'm drowning again.
Some times it gets better, and things don't stick. Nothing registers as bad, and it's like I'm six again. Unknowing of the potential traumas, lost in finger-painting the walls. But it always hurts again.. and I realize that's life.. and that's just.. how it goes. Good times always followed closely by bad. Eventually it gets good again, but the periods in-between, waiting, counting the hours, trying to hold myself together long enough for it to be okay again..
I never am quite sure if I'll make it. I panic, wandering how soon until the pain stops, and I can actually laugh again.
So much of my life feels fake and forced at this point. I know my friends, the real ones, really care. But they have so much to handle themselves that I can't rely on them constantly for reassurance.
It hurts right now.
I've realized someone whom I trusted unparalleled.. isn't there.
It's like they're not real anymore. I'm questioning every conversation we ever had, replaying every moment, trying to pinpoint where it went wrong, where it deteriorated, how I managed to mess up another thing in my life.. Was I not good enough, yet again? Even for friendship.. for basic human compassion..
It kills me. It physically aches, nausea swelling, tears always another thought away. I'm so tired of crying over him..
I can't believe I let myself love him.
Believed him when he told me he'd always be there.
He's not..
He's happy. I have no place in his happiness.. I'm left to hurt, and ache, and scab over, not even a second thought to his new life.. it kills me. It.. it HURTS.
I feel like a cliché, that it's so overdone.. unrequited love.
But it goes DEEPER than unrequited love.. I know he doesn't, nor will he ever, feel the way back for me that I do for him. It goes to.. unrequited humanity. That I just.. am afterthought. Fade to black, start to roll credits, and realize that I'm left sitting there, wondering what I could have POSSIBLY done to deserve this.. it doesn't make sense that it just happened.
I had to have done something for this.
I had to have done something to be forgotten so easily.. am I so easily replaceable? Just.. toss me to the side, get the newer model, obsolete?
I don't want to be the tonsils in peoples lives! I don't want to be chopped out after so many years, suddenly useless, and left to disappear in a medical waste bin!
I don't know..
And.
Apparently I have Daddy Issues. I am a giant freaking cliché, wrapped in flesh.
Maybe that's why I'm so easily replaced.
I'm boring.
Depression, anxiety, Daddy Issues.. I'm a damn soap opera character.
Que the pregnancy with two different mens babies, twins.
Maybe sexier hair, a nice Spanish accent to throw everyone off. Be ethnic, but still "Safe".
Euhg.
I just.. want to stop hurting.
I want to stop getting hurt so easily. I want to not care, to shrug it off when someone breaks me, and go, "Yeah? It was about time. I'm surprised it took you this long to do it." and move on.. to not cry into my pillow night after night, unable to sleep till 5 in the morning, till all my tears are gone and I'm near dehydrated from it.
EUHG.
DAMMIT.

Light Bulb Wars and Late Night Food Runs

Day 1+16

In the midst of current life events, the little things that I would shrug off have become somewhat intolerable as of late.

Such as stolen light bulbs.

A few nights ago, when walking in to my room, I went to turn on my light. And, wouldn't ya' know it, the light bulb was gone. The stand totally bare, empty, naked. Alone.

Which, was pretty damn funny, considering I had put new bulbs in every lamp in my room. I remember doing it. Mum helped me rearrange my furniture, getting angry from the lack of light, every bulb old and burnt out in my room.

When the light bulbs had died, burnt out, you could actually see it. Their end. They flash a bright purpley-blue, there's a popping sound, and suddenly they dim. It all happens so quickly, but the after-images get burned into your eyes, so you see colored spots, the noise loud in your ears from your silent attempts at sleeping.

So, light bulbs gone, I wandered into my little sisters room, curious, remembering all her lights had burnt out as well. And, wouldn't you know it, all her lights turned on.

Now, at first, I just took them all back, turning all my lights on, screwing the bulbs carefully back into the bases of my lamps. Then I left.

Came home.

Bulbs all gone.

Frustration.

However, this time? I don't just take the bulbs, and put them in my room.

I take them with me. Downstairs, on the table beside me, Movies, House episodes, Nic's frustrated, Aubrey's sick next to me. Sister comes downstairs, livid.

"Did you steal my light bulbs?"

You mean did I take back my light bulbs?

"No, they're mine!"

Accusations at my room being dirty.

Insult.

Insult.

Insult.

You can go get new light bulbs from the back room.

Indignation. "No! I want my Goddamn fucking light bulbs back!"

Chuckle.

Indifference.

You can really just go to the back room to get brand new light bulbs.

Rage. "I just want my fucking lights!"

More accusations at my dirty room.

Continued indifference.

You know those were my light bulbs first, and you stole them from my room?

Raging indignation. "They were not! They've always been mine!" Sliding towards giving in. "Besides! My lights don't work in my room!"

Neither do mine.

Apparently if I cleaned my room for the third time I could turn on my overhead light.

Growing tired of her being a bitch.

Aubrey's uncomfortable from the cursing.

Nic's reaching the end of his Tolerance Rope.

Which is pretty damn long.

They're right here, on the table.

"Are you fucking kidding me!"

Yes. Those aren't actually light bulbs, obviously. They're candies.

"Stay out of my room!"

A long pause.

Shared looks.

Shrugs from everyone. Nothing new.

It'd sure be nice if she'd calm down.

"SISTERS never quite FORGIVE each other for what HAPPENED when they were FIVE."

Day 1+15

Day 1, plus fifteen.

It's been fifteen days since the realization of everything hit. Some people know. Some don't. Some days are easier then others.

Some days hurt more then I could imagine.

It comes in waves, my poor attempts at coping obvious failings. I know it's not my fault, everything that happened. But if it's not my fault, then the situation wasn't in my control.. I was a fool, and gave my power to someone else, and trusted them in a way I never should have.

I don't know how I could have been so stupid.

I feel numb inside. When I finally do feel things, it's just pain and hurting, I sit and cry for no reason, sometimes in silence, sometimes with gut-wrenching sobs that return me to my childhood.

When I can't feel anything, I'm terrified. When it's numb, unemotional, raw.. I'm always slightly relieved when the crying happens, afraid that I'd remain in the empty state.

Six months I've been numb inside, shoving everything in the background, not allowing the feelings to surface. Now, everything is there. Angry, raw, blistering. I go through moments of feeling as if my chest is empty, cracked, a shell. Then it's on fire, burning, churning with everything. Everything shakes, uncertainly, as if I'm trying to get my balance back from being unconscious.

I can't figure anything out. Every day things seem impossibly hard. Getting out of bed is the hardest thing to accomplish. Knowing I have to fight my way through another day.. And once that Impossible Task is completed, it's another. Getting out of the shower. Pulling myself up from off of the floor. Driving a car, eating, drinking, walking out the damn door..

A friend jokes, "You need to be happy.. you're broken right now,"

I know I am.

I don't know how to fix it. I truly don't. I feel ridiculous for letting it affect me so much; this occurs to something like 1 in 4 women. With something so common, I feel like it should be easy to fight off, blow over, get passed.. yes. It happened. Where do I go from here? How can this empower me to be a better person, to achieve my dreams, for me to fight to the top, to be who I want to be?

It's not empowering. It's crippling. It hurts, every day.

There are two people outside of my family whom I truly feel comfortable being around. Who don't make me bury my feelings, and let me cry it out when need-be. When I have a panic attack, they don't mock me. They help me fix whatever it was I just did in a subconscious lashing against myself.

I distract myself instead of adding physical hurt to my emotional. Currently I've taken to painting my closet. Giant, white expanse. I hate looking at it. How bare it is, not achieving it's potential. I feel like the walls in my closet. Bare, dull, cream colored. Missing everything I once had..

I want to crawl out of my own skin, and never look back. I'm scrambling. Coloring my hair. Changing my clothes. Different perfume. Different makeup, Every way someone could view me. Just different.. I don't want to be angry and bitter. If I fake happy long enough, it should be that way. Stay that way. Like muscle-memory.

I have too many thoughts.

I don't know where to begin. How I'll end. Am I in my middle?

“Being HAPPY doesn't mean that everything is PERFECT. It means that you've decided to LOOK beyond the IMPERFECTIONS.”