Most of the Time
I broke last night. Sobbing, curled up on the front steps, chest heaving with sorrow. I stayed there until the mosquitoes drove me inside, cellphone clutched in my hand - one last life line. I have lost much of the stupidity of my teenage years and grown a conscience as I have healed and while, on a regular day this is something to be proud of, on a bad day, it leaves me with no coping mechanisms, and the feeling like I'm going to puke it hurts so much.
And the thing about healing is that people don't really get it when you break down anymore. See, they start expecting you to be happy and healthy and all that so when you're not, when you just can't run fast enough to stay ahead of the depression, everyone's confused. "What's wrong?" they ask, truly concerned because they don't understand where it's coming from. "You seemed to be doing fine." Seemed - the operative word. Most days, I can get by. My life is bearable, even enjoyable on rare, beautiful occasions like Saturday night. But every once in a while, it all catches up with you...
It’s funny. Whenever I talk about this kind of thing you get these people saying things like how it’s all old hat, movie-of-the-week, tearjerker crap. They’re tired of it and wish that people would just shut up and get on with their lives instead of going on and on about it. Well, we’re tired of it, too, those of us unfortunate enough to be Children of the Secret. But that didn’t stop it from happening to us and screwing up our lives. Way too many of us weren’t lucky enough to find support like I got to help me pick up the pieces of my life again. And as being here makes it all too clear, the reality of it never really goes away, does it? It’s always there inside us, an unhappy ache that we can’t completely ease no matter how deeply we bury it. It’s not something I think about all the time or anything, but I still wake up sweating from bad dreams, trapped in an endless cycle of being hurt. Or something I see or hear will trigger a rush of panic before I remember that I’m not there anymore.
(Charles DeLint, Widdershins)
What was is that I told David, again? Oh right, "We do not change our fates; we merely live in the world given to us and try the make the best of it." One of these days, I'll start listening to my own words of wisdom.
But not tonight.
I broke last night. Sobbing, curled up on the front steps, chest heaving with sorrow. I stayed there until the mosquitoes drove me inside, cellphone clutched in my hand - one last life line. I have lost much of the stupidity of my teenage years and grown a conscience as I have healed and while, on a regular day this is something to be proud of, on a bad day, it leaves me with no coping mechanisms, and the feeling like I'm going to puke it hurts so much.
And the thing about healing is that people don't really get it when you break down anymore. See, they start expecting you to be happy and healthy and all that so when you're not, when you just can't run fast enough to stay ahead of the depression, everyone's confused. "What's wrong?" they ask, truly concerned because they don't understand where it's coming from. "You seemed to be doing fine." Seemed - the operative word. Most days, I can get by. My life is bearable, even enjoyable on rare, beautiful occasions like Saturday night. But every once in a while, it all catches up with you...
It’s funny. Whenever I talk about this kind of thing you get these people saying things like how it’s all old hat, movie-of-the-week, tearjerker crap. They’re tired of it and wish that people would just shut up and get on with their lives instead of going on and on about it. Well, we’re tired of it, too, those of us unfortunate enough to be Children of the Secret. But that didn’t stop it from happening to us and screwing up our lives. Way too many of us weren’t lucky enough to find support like I got to help me pick up the pieces of my life again. And as being here makes it all too clear, the reality of it never really goes away, does it? It’s always there inside us, an unhappy ache that we can’t completely ease no matter how deeply we bury it. It’s not something I think about all the time or anything, but I still wake up sweating from bad dreams, trapped in an endless cycle of being hurt. Or something I see or hear will trigger a rush of panic before I remember that I’m not there anymore.
(Charles DeLint, Widdershins)
What was is that I told David, again? Oh right, "We do not change our fates; we merely live in the world given to us and try the make the best of it." One of these days, I'll start listening to my own words of wisdom.
But not tonight.
And the thing about healing is that people don't really get it when you break down anymore. See, they start expecting you to be happy and healthy and all that so when you're not, when you just can't run fast enough to stay ahead of the depression, everyone's confused. "What's wrong?" they ask, truly concerned because they don't understand where it's coming from. "You seemed to be doing fine." Seemed - the operative word. Most days, I can get by. My life is bearable, even enjoyable on rare, beautiful occasions like Saturday night. But every once in a while, it all catches up with you...
It’s funny. Whenever I talk about this kind of thing you get these people saying things like how it’s all old hat, movie-of-the-week, tearjerker crap. They’re tired of it and wish that people would just shut up and get on with their lives instead of going on and on about it. Well, we’re tired of it, too, those of us unfortunate enough to be Children of the Secret. But that didn’t stop it from happening to us and screwing up our lives. Way too many of us weren’t lucky enough to find support like I got to help me pick up the pieces of my life again. And as being here makes it all too clear, the reality of it never really goes away, does it? It’s always there inside us, an unhappy ache that we can’t completely ease no matter how deeply we bury it. It’s not something I think about all the time or anything, but I still wake up sweating from bad dreams, trapped in an endless cycle of being hurt. Or something I see or hear will trigger a rush of panic before I remember that I’m not there anymore.
(Charles DeLint, Widdershins)
What was is that I told David, again? Oh right, "We do not change our fates; we merely live in the world given to us and try the make the best of it." One of these days, I'll start listening to my own words of wisdom.
But not tonight.
5 Comments:
At 8:33 AM, Starlin' said…
That's very much the truth of it, isn't it. The problem with getting stronger is that it gets harder and harder to admit it when you break, harder to ask for help, harder to reach out. But the many, many people you talked about in your last post- the ones who have been there- know better. We break, too, every single one of us- sometimes for good reason and with good excuses, but many times just because we stepped on a piece of glass left over from breaking so many times before.
You, dear, are going to have to re-learn how to call for help- just like I have relearned it, over and over, just as I still fight to do. Because it's more important than it seems- it's not just comfort for today, it's also the way we stay close to the people we love, and keep forming those bonds that tie us. If we can't cry on each other, what's the point?
At 2:47 PM, Lazarus said…
(Hug)
At 3:03 PM, Delicious said…
Reaching out is something I struggle with too. Its so hard to admit that sometimes I need someone to cry on. That I'm hurt and I need someone to hold me.
I think most of us live our lives only "seeming" okay most of the time. But the times between the breakdowns get longer and better.
I hope you know that I'm totally there if you need me. Just call or send up a smoke signal. :)
At 10:35 PM, Digital Angel said…
/hug
At 11:45 PM, Jessica said…
(Very late hug) My theory is that we want to live in montage form: stories and films are almost always structured so that the uphill and the downhill slides are really fast, and it seems like you just have to get in the bucket and SHOOP! the sheer force of fate will pull you wherever you're meant to be going. But the actual experience of living isn't quite so clearly plotted.
Descending from whatever soapbox that was, with love.
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