I am strangely good at supressing things. If you see me complain and cry, you probably think, “yeah right!” But it’s true. I stuff the truly painful things, memories and the like, way down where even I forget about them.
It is truly like, they happen and I am just destroyed, but then I wake up the next day. I am exhausted and often embarassed, but…I go make breakfast and plan my day. It’s obviously some defense mechanism I have built over the years. A way to move on and keep on surviving even when shit gets bad.
It’s so sad to me that I am like this. That I have had trauma enough to develop like that. I…can’t even explain how it happened or what trauma I had to force me into this. I just don’t know. It makes me sad to know that I have hurt loved ones because of this way that I stuff it all down. People can’t understand why I am still doing this or that, can’t I see how badly I hurt? Well, no. I can’t see it because I have squashed it down deep, without even trying. I truly cannot see it. At least the intensity of it.
It takes an act of God to bring those traumas back to light sometimes. It wasn’t until a couple years ago, and thanks to a loving person, that I realized how much of my crap is because of emotional trauma as a child. I just…never remembered. Unfortunately, when it does come back, I have to feel it all over again and then process it. It feels like horrific PTSD. It isn’t my favorite.
Then, there are even worse moments, when I least expect it and BAM. There it is. It hit me and I am in tears over this thing that happened years ago. I am feeling it so intensely, as if it were happening fresh. All over again.
I’m not sure what is going on, but…I’m getting a ton of those surprises lately. Each one ruins me. It destroys me and I feel run over. Exhausted and laid flat. Sometimes they are regrets I didn’t know I had. Other times they are feelings I surpressed so I could go on living one more day. Tonight one hit me so bad that I am lying in my room, sobbing as I struggle to get these feelings out to you.
I don’t know if I am alone in this feeling or experience but part of me hopes that I am. I wouldn’t want anyone to have surprise hurt. It is far less fun than surprise parties or surprise presents.
Or surprise cake.
I would like surprise cake.