Lessons Of A Quiet Girl

22

This is why I hate emotions.

This right here. I've literally attempted to write this three times, because each time I go to write it, what I want to say changes. Because it is about emotions. I dislike emotions immensely.

So, long story short, I get my do over. I've walked away from my situation and started anew-ish. And right now, at this moment, all I feel is numb. Everytime I start to have anything resembling any kind of positive feeling, I freeze. It's kind of a bitch.

The truth is, I've been hurt. I know, boo-freaking-hoo. We all get hurt. Thats life. Don't get me wrong, I've been hurt before, but not like this. This is so much... more damaging than I anticipated.

You see, when I first started writing this, the day I decided to start writing this particular piece, I was feeling good. I was feeling really good. I had a kind of revelation on my walk home from the bus stop, one of the few times I am actually left in my precious silence. And my revelation was just about how normal I felt. I've been going out and doing things, I've been hanging out with people regularly, having fun, living life. It's been so wonderful to be so normal again.

I realized how much less exhausting it is to not constantly feel like a protector. And I did. For all that time, I did feel like a protector and a healer. But in the end I couldn't protect or heal anything. And I was absolutely exhausted by the end of it all. So I ended up feeling kind of just... useless. I ended up feeling like more a burden than anything. I ended up feeling like more  of a negative influence than a positive, regardless of how hard I tried to stay positive. And I tried damn hard. I kept looking to the little things in life that were good, and seeing as how there are so many, it really kept me going for quite some time.

So the day I started writing this I was really enjoying how good I was feeling, how fantastic it felt to feel so normal. And it really did.

Then there was the time I decided to try this again. It was not nearly as positive a day. It wasn't super negative, it was just very... bleh. But I suppose I should elaborate on.

So, I've started seeing this guy, right. And it turns out I really like him. Sounds fantastic, right? Ha. Hahaha! NO! Not when your mind gets the best of you and you start overthinking. So I'm sitting there, and I'm overthinking stuff to death, these thoughts from a fractured part of my mind. That broken part. That part that doesn't like me very much.

It's that same part that keeps telling me that I'm not good enough, that I'll never be good enough. It keeps telling me that I wasn't good enough in the past, no matter how hard I tried. So I'll never be good enough. It's that part that keeps reminding me of how I fell short and was never able to overcome those challenges, and eventually made me just give up, just made me stop trying.

It's that same part that scares the hell out of me. It scares the hell out of me because I do so well in other areas. I thrive, flourish. But what if relationships is the one area I am just never good enough in? What if it's that one major obstacle I want to overcome, but I just can't? What if I'm never attentive enough? What if small details I am expected to notice are ones I always overlook? What if my memory isn't good enough, and I forget things? These are things I've been known to do, what if they are the areas I can never improve in, if they are always why people I care about cast me aside and can't really ever love me?

It's that part of me that is deeply concerned that the men I fall for will only ever love me for my body, and when they lose interest in that; because they will; that they'll realize that they can't actually stand me. That there are many women out there better suited to them. Because outside of the bedroom, I'm just not good enough. Again. As usual.

And this second set of thoughts starts off very neutral, as though it's just a fact of life, and spirals to exactly that depressing thing that it sounds like. 

So, yeah. I hate emotions. They screw with everything. Without emotions, I wouldn't be as broken as I feel. I wouldn't be so scarred and twisted and everything nasty about me. I wouldn't come off as someone who hates myself to those who don't know me, and even to those who think that they do.

I hate feelings, I hate emotions. Not in general, I just really, really hate having them. Because as mean as anyone can be to me, as nasty as their words may be and as deep as they may try to cut, the honest to goodness truth is: they've got nothing on me. They simply give me the weapons to tear myself down and destroy my own self. They just give me the ammo.

The very worst part is? I'll keep it myself. I'll just keep on keeping quiet.