At this moment, I am ready to “come out of my skin”. I could go up, down, all around and surely never feel settled. The issue of heartache is one that I am certain most everyone has experienced. I have put myself through much of this as to break this heart of mine open. Music has a tendency to bring out that which I thought had been long since dealt with.
It is hard to say when it all started, but somewhere along the line I let my own needs go to waste in the hopes that I could be everything to someone else. What I hadn’t realized was that until I can be everything to myself, I’d never find that “someone”. And who knows, maybe there are a lot of “someones” out there for me. In an effort to find a beginning, I’ll start in my heart.
I have this pain that I can’t quite put my finger on. I forget it exists most of the time, though I remember when I start to feel anxious and uneasy. A force that is now permeating my reality and surrounding me, I feel fearful and desire a retreat. But what am I running from? Why am I scared?
The Big J… Judgment. I hate judgment, and even more then that I hate when people don’t like me. I have always been a people pleaser so to feel like others think ill of me makes me feel scared. And the craziest thing about this, no one has ever blatantly said “I don’t like you!” With this self inflicted paranoia, I swear I could explode.
I hurt someone…
To be radically honest, I’ve hurt many people.
My inability to love myself has left others in the dust, picking up the pieces of their hearts that I stepped all over. The reality is- it happens. I think that on a rare occasion, people smash others hearts on purpose. In contrast, though, I think that on a very deep level it is because communication of individual needs is not expressed; causing resentment, revenge, and unhappiness.
I have had my heart broken, broken again, and then broken some more. I do not place blame for these things that have transpired between my past lovers and myself, though there is something there that has seen no resolution. If it is not my fault, and it is not their fault, who the hell can I blame for this feeling of grey? It is all consuming and I have very creative ways of avoiding the feeling of despair, fear, and regret.
As I cry alone, I have to remember that I am not alone. I may not have a human here with me in this moment, but I am not alone. My heart aches and cries as though no one hears, however all of my being just does not believe it. What I have learned to do is just let it flow. I’m sitting here crying, shaking on the inside, but I refuse to stay here or neglect this experience.
There are many things about this “process” we call life that I simply do not understand. I don’t understand this physical sensation I am experiencing from just seeing a picture of a past lover and yet it is requiring all of my attention. Unable to concentrate on my task at hand, I must drop all as if this feeling is a crying baby needing feeding. And perhaps it is. My wounded, scared inner child, longing to be held.
How do I hold me?
I just cry. I let it out as best as I can, and remind myself that it is OK. It is OK to feel sad, or confused, or angry while not totally understanding the deepest root of the issue.
I want to be real here, life is fucked up. Especially love. Love is the most fucked thing of all, yet in all of my being I believe that is the source of all. Without it, what is the point? I would certainly rather cry my eyes out, feel paranoid and sad, then noting at all. At least I know something is happening beneath the surface.
Transmuting, changing, rearranging- whatever you want to call it, it’s happening.
I give myself permission to feel like shit- in whatever forms this emotional turd takes shape.
Choosing to accept what is, choosing to seek the positive despite the chaos of the moment, I know that out of shit can come some incredibly beautiful flowers.
10 thoughts on “The picture trigger”
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