WARNING: This installment might make you feel uncomfortable. I'm making up for all of those entries that should have been as true as this one. I am venting months and months of pain and frustration proving that that was then, and this... this is now.
Hot damn, writing tonight got me fired up. Re-reading my old entries is pretty crazy. When I write in this blog I read/edit my entry as I go, but once I publish it I don't ever look at it again. I don't want to bring up that terrible unrest by reading it after I've been able to abate it. But shit, I was a fucking wuss in the beginning. I'll share a bit of what I wrote for my book with you tonight. It'll explain what I mean:
weak, feeble attempts at rebellion in my early entries still irritate me to no
end. This is my blog, dammit. And it’s obvious that the people I was
longing to connect with weren’t reading it.
I doubt they even spared it a glance at all, let alone read it and kept
up with it. Those entries ooze passive
aggressiveness. It makes me angry. I should have been able to say exactly what I
meant and fuckall if someone takes it personally. Maybe they should. Maybe they should sit back and wonder “is she
talking about me?” Because odds are, if you're reading what I'm saying and thinking of only yourself, I most certainly am. I was so afraid to
say the wrong thing. I’m so glad I grew
some balls as time moved on. In this
entry from last year, I envision a weak little lamb, knees knocking when I read
“Please don't misunderstand; I love my family and friends with all my
heart. This is not something I see for myself. It's just a new
emotion.” For shits sake! I wanted to be alone! ... I
needed to protect myself from the rejection I was feeling. And yet I
still begged them, in my own way, not to give up on me."
I will never go back there. I will never be that fearful again. I am entitled to my feelings and the freedom to express them. There is no need to make excuses. They're feelings, how can they be wrong? It's all a matter of personal opinion, anyway. I am hurting. All the time. Some of my pain is exactly the same pain that I've been dealing with for the past 14 months. Some of my pain is new, evolutionary. But I am always hurting. There is no need for me to try to sugar coat it for my audience. If you really know me, if you spend time with me, talk to me, you know I cope. But some people see my expression of pain and I am bombarded with input. Some things that people say to me are bewildering. When I'm questioned I can't help but wonder if they even know me at all. Maybe if they paid more attention they would never say such things. If they think that I should be "moving on" or "getting over" these things, are you for real? If they think that I should be "putting on a brave face" or "being thankful for what I have" they can fucking call me after they watch their husband die right in front of them and tell me then how irrelevant that statement is. Until then, they can't even begin to imagine this kind of pain. I hope they never have to live with anything so terrible. I'm sorry if my pain makes you uncomfortable. How do you think it makes me feel? I'm the one who has to live it. You get to read this blog and then go back to your family; to your husband, to your wife. If I sound bitter, it's because I am. I've spent too much time longing for people to come back to me after they stopped checking on me, calling me, inviting me out. I've spent too much time wondering why it was happening, wondering what I was doing wrong to make them pull away. I've spent too much time pussy footing around my feelings in this blog because I didn't want the rejection to keep happening. I tried everything I could to be understood. But it didn't really matter what I said or what I did. And I finally realized all that matters is what I think, what I do. I've come this far all by myself. I did it. Me. I'm no longer afraid.
I choose to be true to my emotions. I choose to be proud of all that I have accomplished. I choose to embrace this pain in my life. And if others can't accept this about me, then they can kindly keep their judgments to themselves.