Saturday, August 30, 2014

A Walk in the Rain

I went walking in the rain. It felt good to let it wash away the numbness and even a little bit of the pain that was hiding away underneath. The rain felt cold and clean. I just wanted it to make me feel new, but it didn't. No matter how much the rain washes over me and chases away the demons, there will be plenty more demons following behind to trample on any peace I may have managed to obtain.

I went walking in the rain in the cemetery. All I could think was "Lucky bastards". They don't care about their past any more, they don't have people worrying about their present, and their future is secure. At the same time I hurt to be alive, it helped to be somewhere quiet. Nobody to pretend that I'm normal for. No one to judge me when I don't react the way they want or expect. No questioning of how I really feel, how I really am. Just silent gravestones, standing vigil as I came back to myself again.

The walk cleared my head of the fog that gets me through my weeks at work. The fog that keeps me from breaking down and having to call in because I can't function. The fog that sometimes makes the laughter come out a bit loud and maniacal sounding because I misjudge what is acceptable and normal. The fog that makes me remember just a second too late to smile at cuteness and seem sad when a tragedy occurs, which causes the looks from strangers and friends alike. Looks of surprise then doubt that they saw what was actually lurking behind my eyes, they truth they saw for merely a moment. The fog that makes people believe that the truth is the lie and the lie, which is so much more commonly seen, is the truth.

The only way to function is to push the emotions so far away from me that I can barely feel the pressure of them in a box in the corner of my mind, but I'm so practiced at it that sometimes I do it without thinking. The numbness gets to me after a while. I desperately need an outlet, something to help me remember what feelings really are. Or maybe, what they would be if they were physically manifested. So, I clench my fist hard enough for my nails to draw blood, I press my leg hard enough against the corner of my desk to cause a bruise, I cut myself "while shaving" just deep enough for it to sting, etc., etc.

On the weekends I try sometimes to let my guard down. I try to just be me, instead of being normal. It hurts, though, to let go of the control, to feel all of that hurt I've suppressed all week. I can't do it much around other people, my mind won't let me, and if I'm not careful I let my guard down too much when I'm by myself. Once it's down, it takes time to build it back up again, because everything is too much for one person to contain or understand. . One person cannot hold that many emotions inside themselves. That's when I hurt myself for the other reason, to try to get it all out of my head. There's so much it buzzes in my brain and keeps me awake. When I DO manage to sleep, I sleep forever.....or at least it feels that way.

Music helps/hurts in so many ways. It helps me feel a little during the week, and it helps me express the feelings when I let myself go.  It hurts because sometimes it expresses it too well and I don't want to feel those things, I don't want to understand my thoughts, I don't want to go on with this, I don't want this to be normal for me. I don't want this any more at all.

Last weekend, my guard was brought down unexpectedly and violently, and I didn't think I would survive it. It wasn't a contemplation of suicide, just a realization that, even when I let myself feel, I don't ever let myself feel it all. Unless my control is taken away from me completely, I will forever continue to avoid a pain like that again. Except that, I can't actually avoid something that lives inside me. It's the serpent coiled up in the back of my mind, waiting to strike at every chance it gets, and although I stop it from poisoning me in one fell swoop, I can't help but to wonder if it's poison is killing me little by little in the doses I can't avoid.

So, maybe if it rains again later, I'll go for another walk in the rain in the cemetery. Maybe it will make me feel a little better for a little while. Or maybe I'm just crazy.

1 comment:

  1. I am not an amnesiac, but I feel a lot of the same things. Thanks for writing this blog. We are not alone in this..


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