Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
What people think I feel
Someone once told me that I don't deal with my emotions. That I bottle everything up. There is so much more than just six emotions. There's six basic emotions, sure. But there are so many more than just six. And I feel all of them. Not only that, I can distinguish the difference between most, if not all of them.
What I actually feel
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Wow. Thanks. Way to make me sound dead. I mean really. I'm pretty picky about which emotions I bottle up....Damn.
I admit, I do bottle them up, though. Turns out, the bottle does have it's limits. And when it breaks, holy shit. What a disaster that is! I nearly drowned in a flood of every single one of those emotions at once. It took me a really long time to get my head above the surface.
So, the bottle breaks. It goes everywhere, even places you didn't know existed. It mixes in with everything else. And you try to clean it up, you desperately try to clean up this hot mess as quickly as possible so that maybe people won't see you panic. Maybe they won't notice. But you can't do it on your own, as it would turn out.
What really sucks is when those you thought would be there to help you clean it up, the ones you thought you could count on, they bail on you. Tell you that you were stupid to put something into a bottle, anyways, and now you're on your own. I sincerely hope that doesn't happen to you, ever.
My bottle was filled with great anger, great depression, and great disappointment. I chose to fill it with my heartbreak, with my trust issues and with my feelings of betrayal. I chose to put those emotions into a bottle, telling myself that I was choosing not to keep those things in my life, accept them as the past and move on. I am hilarious. Hilariously wrong.
I chose to keep those emotions separate from my joy, from my optimism, from my contentedness. Sure, I would still have bouts of frustration or sadness, but nothing matching what I put into that bottle.
So when my bottle finally broke, the negative emotions that were inside took to the positive emotions like playdough. All mashed together in an indecisive colour mash up. Just enough that you can tell it wasn't actually brown to begin with, but the more you try to pick it apart, the worse it gets all mashed together.
I'd like to say that I got through it. I'd like to say that I have some simple answer as to how to get everything separated. I can't say that, I'm sorry.
What I can say, is that it's taking a lot of time. And I am not that patient of a person. It's wearing on me.
What I can say, is that I have to decide what to remove from my life, which things get to stay ,and which things to add in.
It's the equivalent to walking the high wire. With vertigo. And a small collection of tiny, little safety nets that you aren't even sure if you entirely trust to catch you.
