Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Dump Truck

It is hard for me to function right now. Last night was one of the suckiest nights of my life. I sobbed so much my jaw and teeth and sinuses hurt. 

I am not totally clear on the source of the pain, but I am clear it is deeply embedded. It goes to the very core of me. It hurts like hell.

I wrote this right before I went to sleep: 

"It is not only the fact that "A" is uninterested in a relationship that has me feeling as I do. It's the fact that even if he was, I would find myself wondering if I was being selfish, not knowing what would happen. That also extends to anyone else who could conceivably be a prospect - of which there isn't any. That also extends to people in general. It is a rare person who wants any kind of relationship/interaction at this point. That is what devastates and hurts me at the core. It is what has my mouth and jaw hurt. It is what has my eyes be red and swollen. It is what had me in a desperate state tonight. I feel a bit better now than I did. Hopefully things will be better in the morning. The night has sucked."

I think that could be it. The problem is, what the hell do I do with it? There is no fixing it. It just is what it is, and it is a living hell that I have no way to escape, short of escaping life itself.

I found someone to talk to late last night. I was desperate. My mind was going some not so good places. It is really hard to be at a crisis point like that. A part of me doesn't want to reach out, but I know on some level pulling in when I feel a need to reach out is not a good idea. 

Last night I dreamt a rug was pulled out from underneath me, literally. It wasn't a swift movement. It was just little by little. I was having to constantly adjust as it was pulled. In the end, it was being rolled up and put in a corner. I think the place was being sold.

I also dreamt about being at a place, and outside there was a truck, kind of like a dump truck. It was parked horizontally over a few spaces. For some reason I went out to it, and pulled a lever of some sort. When I left the truck, it started to expand from the back. It expanded right into a white van, and a few other vehicles were damaged from the domino effect. And all I did was watch.

I found myself wondering if I did that - but somehow I knew I had. I wondered if I was going to get into trouble. Would there be video showing me in the truck? Why was I even there? Why did I do that? Why didn't I try to stop it? I couldn't explain any part of it. I also felt guilty.

Maybe it represented the junk that I had that expanded last night. It just kept getting bigger and bigger. I couldn't explain it. There was undoubtedly collaterol damage, as it couldn't have been easy for those I talked to. And I felt terrible for the stuff I was dumping when speaking with them. They had no idea what to say. At times they just witnessed my tears.

At one point I even said something about how grateful I was for those who could witness my sobs. They are very rare and precious.

A part of me wants to pull in and pull away right now. That feeling scares me. I am afraid that would mean I had given up, and figured there was no use in bothering to talk to anyone. It feels terrifying, actually.

So many think I am so damn strong. Well I feel anything but that right now. I think on some level it feels fraudulent to be perceived as strong. Even when it is unacknowledged, there is a part of me that knows about this side. It knows there is a desire to give up and run. If I was indeed strong, this part shouldn't exist, right? The appearance of things is just a cover-up, isn't it? 

The reality is that I just suck, right? After all, if I was more worthy people would pay more attention, and help more - wouldn't they?

This taps into every insecurity I have ever had. I do not think there is a single one left out.

As a child I always felt insecure about my looks. Because I was ugly and fat, that had to be why I wasn't popular. The irony is that people tell me I am beautiful these days, and I am still not popular. That means whatever holds people back from me is not my looks. It has to be something that much worse about me, right?

I kind of know better. This is just stuff I have dealt with over the years. It is rearing its ugly head again, probably because it was never fully dealt with and/or healed.

Now, with cancer in the picture, there is a new form of ugliness and deformity that no one wants to see. As a result, they don't see the me I am, if they see me at all. There are, however, a few who are at least willing to see me - all of me. It is probably what saves me on some level. We all want to be witnessed and accepted for who we are.

I do, though, feel like I am falling apart. I am now scared to get a scan again. If I feel anything like this then, I am afraid I won't be able to pick myself up if the news isn't good.

But then there is a part of me that would be quite happy...the part that is sad, frustrated and lonely. It is so exhausted. It could finally give up and give in. It would be done. What a relief that would be. No more pain. No more rejection. No more feeling isolated, alone, unloved and unloveable.

While I know logically that I am loved and cared about by some, there is something missing that has it not feel like enough. I find myself wondering if it could be self love. But that answer is all too easy.

And. I do not think it accurate. As much as I may connect with someone, there is a different quality of connection and expression at a certain level of relationship that you cannot have while you are alone.

Some people say you are born alone and die alone as a way of trying to be Ok in a space of being alone while in life. Well. It is not OK! And it shouldn't seem to be OK. We have something beautiful that is possible to access. It is something we want and aspire to - why in the world do we try to tell ourselves it is OK to be without? Probably as a way of trying to avoid the inevitable pain. The problem is it is only a superficial patch. It is only a game we play with ourselves.

Is it raining outside? It may depend on where you look. Look at the sky one way, and it could be sunny. Look at it another, and it could be dark and stormy. So which answer do you give? In some way, both answers are accurate/appropriate.

And yet, our insistence on certainty practically demands it be one or the other. At times the advantage will be to say it is stormy. At other times, the advantage will be to say it is sunny and wonderful.

Wherever we wind up standing, we may never see the other part. We may be so certain that all there is is rain because the   sun is farther away than we can see it.

This analogy makes it seem like it is simple to make a choice of what we will see and where we will stand. I am not sure about that, though, if things were that simple, we wouldn't have issues like this - ever.

Earlier today I received a message from someone not in a good place. Certainly not what I needed right now. I wound up telling her about my pain,and tried not to fix  anything for her. It helps when you aren't in such a good place for yourself; it prevents you from thinking you have all the answers.

I had written her quite some time ago, but for some reason, she wrote back when I was the lowest I have been in a while. I thought about not replying. But something told me to. I wondered if I was just talking to myself, if I was just reminding myself of the things I think I already "know." Was I telling her what I needed to hear?

I just saw she replied, grateful to me for my reply. She acknowledged me, too, for reaching out from my pain. I guess the timing is everything. Who knows what my reply would have been a week ago, but it would not have been from this extremely raw place I am in right now. For all I know, it is exactly where she needed me to be.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. I am so tired. But somehow I do feel a bit better. This messed up mish mosh inside of me sucks. It is like the night and day trying to come to blows. They are at odds with one another, and yet, one doesn't stand a chance when the other one shows up to overtake it.

It seems to have sense of inevitabilty around it. Like it has to happen. That it will happen. It doesn't really help to know this, though. It rather sucks, actually.

What I do know, though, is that there is another side, and when I get there I won't truly understand the depths of the despair I had while here. It has happened before, so I imagine it can happen again.

I wish it was more of a comfort to know this, but it is not. I guess that is part of the "night" side. When you're there, you're immersed in it. The same probably goes for the day side - at least at times.

The day side though seems to have an easier time of entertaining its opposite. Maybe the day, the light, is more inclusive than the night. Or maybe in the dark, you just don't know what's there, if you can't see it. There could be all kinds of good stuff, it just is hidden and therefore much more difficult - if not impossible - to interact with. 

I hear in my head it is about trusting that even when you can't see it, you just know it is there. But that doesn't really work for me. Something could be right in front of you, but it is just the slightest bit out of your reach. What does it matter knowing it's there if you can't get to it and interact with it?

My eyes want to close. I think I have exhausted myself with all of the crying. I think I am going to go back to sleep for a bit. 

It feels like the clouds may be clearing a bit. 

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