Okay, I'll admit it. I'm a bit jealous. I've been longing to write, to blog, to vent. I need to just let it all out, to release some of the tension that is still building on this dam of mine. I am again at the point of explosion, of utter desperation. The fear of letting others see the dark abyss that has become my heart has taken over and I have worked with all my might to hold the flood waters in, to smile and pretend as if I've got it all together. Then my best friend goes and writes two amazing, deep, and raw with truth blogs in the past 24 hours and it made me jealous.
She and I have so much in common, we have such a similar past, and we both find release in our writing. We've both had similar fears and are haunted with some unfortunate demons. So her ability to let it all out there in a way that it seems only she and I can, made me long for the same experience. Reading her blogs full of struggle and hurt, echoing feelings that resignate with my very soul, reminded me of how much I needed this therapy.
I have got to work past the fear of what others think, the fear of not being loved or accepted. The fear of the rumors, the condemnation, the constant judgments. I have got to just be me. I have got to move on.
I have been so deeply consumed by the anger that is pent up within me. I am angry that my mother is dead. I am angry that I feel little or no connection to others, that I am out of place everywhere. I am so very angry that I don't feel loved or plugged in at church, that I am constantly under a microscope and am the subject of gossip.
I am angry at a very specific someone who repeatedly hurt me throughout my adolescent years, someone who was supposed to be a leader and instead put me down at every turn. And what bothers me most about this person is that he/she is so blind to this that they go on and act like they didn't play a crucial role into a large sum of my insecurities. And not only that, but he/she is a leader still and puts on a show of love and acceptance of others so I am unsure. Am I that unlovable that I was and am unworthy of this person's acceptance? What is so wrong with me that a person who preaches and teaches love from the pulpit could possibly be so cruel and uncaring? Does he/she feel no shame?
I feel like I've been cemented in this place. This place of deep anger and questioning. Why can't I move past this anger towards people, family, and worst of all, God? Why am I stuck in this aching bitterness? Why can't I move on? Why can't I just accept that my mom is gone? Why can't I just ignore the voices from that leader that echo in my head daily; the words he/she uttered to me, "I've always cringed every time i saw your name on a sign up sheet." Those words among others haunt me all the time. They've made me feel that people don't love me, like me, or care for me, they simply tolerate me, if even that.
Why must I be cemented here? Why must the abuse I endured as a child, the verbal abuse in my adolescence, the loss of my mom and other life circumstances define me? Why must I be stuck in such a depraved state of absolute constant anxiety? Depression? Anger? Resentment?
I so long to be one of those sweet moms who everyone loves and looks forward to be around. Why can't I just smile? Why can't I be fun? Why was my life chosen to be so darn complicated? Why is my life in the depths of despair when it should be unicorns and butterflies?
I just long for a way to move past all of this. I long to be free from holding this dam, with all the pressure of grief, anger, bitterness, and unforgiveness folding in and spilling all around me. I long to be free. Is that really too much to ask? I also long to be loved, genuinely loved by those around me. I long to be cherished and to be thought of as special. I long to be human.
I'm happy to see you squeezing in some time to write. :) I think that could be a key to both of us healing from our past. We just avoid it and make up excuses because we write from a hurtful and painful place. And no matter our good intentions, usually our writing unleashes a surprise. We are not happy writers most of the time because that's not why we do it. It's to get out what we can't keep in any longer. We both have a gift. I believe that. It may be to heal ourselves, it may be to help heal others. To say the words people including ourselves are too scared to say out loud. I am learning to let go of my past while allowing it to be a part of me. I think you struggle with this too. Also, I cling to wrongful acts and you cling to wrongful people. We must not give these things and people power over us. It takes time when the scars run below the surface. When they change who we are. When they make us outcasts and breed doubt that multiplies and spreads like wildfire. There are poisonous people in your life and you know it. Keep your distance and protect your heart. As for your mother, you are avoiding that because the wound is still very fresh due to your avoidance of the whole thing. I think you need to allow yourself to think about it. It's okay to be sad; you always will be. It's not fair and it sucks. This is where we cry out to God to help us heal the hurt. What happened to her is not something to understand or to move on from, it's something to tend to, to acknowledge, but not allow it to cripple you. She wouldn't want that for you, hun. None of us do. And lastly, you are a special gift, Allysia. You are a wonderful person. A good person. Kind. Compassionate. Giving. Thoughtful. Unique. You make my life better by being a part of it. We only see our flaws, but remember others see you in a different light. I have faith in you sweetie. You're gonna make it and you're gonna be okay. I believe it. Now it's your turn to believe in yourself. Believe the best in you. HUGS.
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