A Blessing and a Curse

Ever since I was little, I was taught to hide my emotions–especially the negative ones.  Or rather, the ones perceived as negative.  Anger.  Sadness.  Pain.  Hurt.  Disappointment.  Not allowed in my family.  Except, as I have said, by my father.  I was told I didn’t feel anger.  I was yelled at if I ever did show anger.  Because of this, I am quite adept at holding the turmoil inside.  I have talked about the mask I used to wear during the lost years.  Well, I still do that when it comes to intense emotions.

In addition, I am very articulate–as you may be able to tell.  I can talk clearly about things, even if I am in great distress.  If I actually show negative emotions, then they are stronger than I am showing because if I show them at all, that means that I can’t keep an iron grip on them.   For the most part, I can detach from my emotions enough to present myself in a fairly pulled-together manner.

I can also turn off my emotions as if they are a faucet.  I can be in great pain and weeping, but if someone walks into the room, I immediately shut it off.  Choolie and I were talking about how difficult it is to show anger to someone else or to cry in front of someone because of this.  She was taught, as was I, that it’s dangerous to show emotions.

So, even though I feel completely overwhelmed right now, I don’t sound as if I’m overwhelmed when I talk about what is happening in my life.   In addition, I use humor as a way to deflect the pain, so I can be yukking it up and still hurting inside.

I am mostly talking about so-called negative emotions, but I also keep a pretty tight rein on my positive emotions as well.  My overall demeanor is much the same no matter what I’m feeling.   It serves the purpose of helping me keep it together when I need to not break down, but it hurts me because then I can’t really show friends what I am feeling.  There is a layer between me and my emotions.  I can talk about them in an almost clinical way, but if I tap into them, I back off quickly.

There’s another reason I don’t show the negative emotions.  They are so damn strong.  Let’s take anger.   I have so much anger stored inside of me, I feel as if I would burn the whole earth down if I ever let it loose.  I was taught that anger was volatile, dangerous, and bad.  I had to stuff it down until I couldn’t take it any more, and then, I would spew.  Here is whabs’ post of what happens when she loses it.  As you can see, I commented that I had a similar reaction, except I usually turned the anger on myself because it’s safer.

When I was a kid, I was not allowed to show anger in any way.  If my mother was scolding me about something, and I raised my voice at all, I was told not to shout.  If I didn’t say anything, I was told I couldn’t sulk.  If I was sarcastic, I was told not to be rude.  The one time I yelled at my father before running into my room and slamming the door shut, he burst in and screamed at me that I do not get to slam doors in his house.  I have said that I actually feared for my physical safety at that moment.

With my mother, it’s a different story.  I have recounted how she wears me down with her constant talking at me.  She won’t stop, no matter what.  About fifteen years ago, she was in the beginning of her born-again phase while I was in my, “I fucking hate God” phase.  This meant that she talked about God all the fucking time, and I gritted my teeth and tried not to react.  We were in the car one night on the way home, and she was blathering on and on about her God this and her God that.  I tried to change the subject.  I tried to tell her I wasn’t interested in listening, but to no avail.  She kept going, so I finally exploded and yelled, “I don’t give a fuck about your God.”  She immediately stopped the car (good thing no one was behind us) and ordered me out of the car.  We were only a half mile from home, so I walked the rest of the way.

It was for the best, really, but it demonstrated to me that pissing off my parents was not allowed.  So, I don’t know a good way to express anger.  I either don’t say anything, or I just explode when I’ve had enough.   Neither is a great way of dealing with anger, but I wasn’t taught any differently.

As for crying, I consider it weak and pitiful to cry in front of someone else.  I go to great lengths not to do it, so when I do, I feel doubly stupid.  I hate letting the mask slip, even though intellectually I know that emotions are natural.

So where the fuck am I going with this?  Well, I am saying that because I can talk quite freely about how shitty my life is right now, and I can do it in quite an eloquent manner (last night’s ramblings notwithstanding), it’s easy for me to give the impression that I have it more together than I do.

So.  I am going to try to give you a peek into my mind.  I am not sure if I can do it, but I’m going to give it the old college try.  Here we go.  Here are the demons who have taken up residence in my brain.

You might as well die now.  No one would really miss you if you were gone.  You’re fat and ugly and gross and disgusting.  No one could love you.  You will die alone.

It’s useless trying to change.  You won’t be able to do it.  You’ll fail like you do in everything.  You suck.

Why not just give up?   You remember the other side and how peaceful it was.  Wouldn’t you like to be at peace?

You won’t make it in Taiwan.  You’ll die over there.  You’ll be more of a freak than you are here.  You will be ridiculed.  You will hate it.  They will hate you, you fat piece of shit.

Me:  Leave me the fuck alone!

Why don’t you just do the world favor and die already?  What good are you to anyone?  Waste of space.  Stupid bitch.  Die already.  Just do everyone a favor and kill yourself.  You can’t make it on your own.  you are too broken and too damaged and too ruined to ever heal.

Stupid bitch stupid bitch stupid bitch stupid bitch stupid bitch.   Just fucking kill yourself already.  Do it do it do it do it do it now!

It’s at this point that I consider doing it just to shut them the fuck up.  Hm.  I just made an interesting observation.  I said the same thing about when my mom keeps talking at me–I get the impulse to do whatever she wants (get married, procreate) just to get her to shut the fuck up and leave me alone.

They won’t fucking leave me alone.  Night falls, and they swarm at me from all sides.  They try all kinds of different tactics, and they are wearing me down.  You know the frustrating part?  I was on my way to healing before the flashback shit, and I was happy.  My best friend said that means I can get back there because I know it’s there.  To me, though, it’s harder because what the fuck is wrong with me that I am back in this dark place again?  I was happy, damn it.  I was on my way to healing.  I could see a future, and it was one that wasn’t filled with…this.  Now, I don’t see a future any longer.  All I can see are the nets that encase me and the chains that bind me, and I don’t have any hope that I will escape from them.

I am exhausted.  I can barely keep my eyes open, but I do not want to go to bed.  I am afraid.  And, I am tired of being afraid.   I feel as if I am at the end of my resources, and I am not replenishing them at all.  I find it harder and harder to keep my shit together with each passing day.   I just want it all to stop.

Everything.

P.S.  Yes, all the videos are repeats.  They all just fit my mood right now.  And, quite frankly, I am too fucking tired to find new ones.