Tag Archives: hurt

Daily Battle

I work hard at myself. Really hard.

Every day I work to fight the demons that say you are not good enough. You’re not working hard enough. You are fat. You are worthless.

Every. Single. Day. I fight to make myself believe I am strong, capable, worthy of love and friendship. I fight to believe that people like me, that I am a good person full of love and compassion and that I have purpose.

Every. Day.

Some days are easier than others of course. Some days come and go and I barely notice the work. Other days, it feels like I am trying to walk uphill, on crumbling steps that disintegrate beneath my struggling feet.

At 33, I have gotten better. It’s gotten easier. I know where the darkness lurks most often and I am more or less prepared.

I have been so excited to come home. To spend Christmas with MY family. To be cozy and warm. To be loved.

I realize, sadly, that while I do feel those things, they are a tiny, little fraction of my thoughts and feelings.

Instead, my thoughts are like this.

I need to eat, but if I go to the fridge, Mom will comment and I will feel guilty and gross inside. 

Does this shirt show my belly fat, that I have gained through stress and depression? I don’t want Mom to see it and comment on how tight it might be.

Have I cleaned up enough? I don’t want Mom to see that I have been around, lest she get mad and say I left things around.

I really want to eat dessert, but…am afraid of what Mom will say.

I am so grateful that she bought food for us to eat…but I worry she will throw it in my face later if I am not good enough.

I would like to share some of my own traditions…but…she gets mad when I try to suggest a change.

Is that Mom coming up the stairs? Please…say she doesn’t want me for something.

Please, can I just have 20 minutes to myself, quietly.

So, the demons roar back with my tears. With my intense fears. With the realization that I trult sometimes feel traumatized. The demons and darkness come back, now that their Master is around, their ally.

The daily battles get bigger and have higher stakes.

At least for now. I am working hard. Harder than ever.

No wonder I struggle.

If I’m Honest

I am having a very difficult time.

If I’m honest,  I am so tired of telling you all that I’m struggling. I’m so tired of crying, sobbing and weeping. I’m tired of feeling like I am attention seeking, by crying and whining. I know that I am just hurting, not seeking attention, but the negative voices in my head tell me to shut up. To delete those tweets. That better people would be grateful for what they DO have. The negative voices are so mean, hurtful and abusive but when you’re at your weakest, they are the loudest ones you can hear.

If I’m honest, I’m just…tired. I want to reach out but I don’t know what to say. When I do find the strength to reach for someone, I am overcome with guilt for bothering someone, putting all of my weight on them, burdening them. Then, I am heavier and try to backpedal out without hurting them. Then I cry alone, so wishing I couod be held, hugged and loved. Screwed up, I know.

If I’m honest, I feel weak for being so sensitive. So touchy. I imagine readers cringing and thinking how annoying I am. I hate this sensitivity sometimes. I know that it isn’t JUST sensitivity, but that coupled with depression and all that I am dealing with makes it worse. I KNOW that I won’t always be so tender. So sensitive to the touch. I know that it is a product of everything at once. Just…it’s hard.

If I am honest, I asked a friend last night, what I did in this life to deserve such pain and suffering. Writing it out makes me feel so overdramatic but it is how I feel. I love people. I care SO deeply about everyone. I do. I worry about people, I try to help, to touch lives that I can. My outstretched concern is genuine. When I say I am thinking of you, I truly, honestly am. My heart is bursting with love and worry and feelings for the world. Truly, the world.

If I’m honest, I dreaded sleep last night, knowing another day would come. Another day that I would have to deal with. I was scared to sleep, because I was scared to wake up and face things all again.

If I’m honest, waking up was hard. I woke up ready to burst into tears, not wanting to have to deal with another day. As I sit here,  I am headachey with swollen eyes and I am tired. So, so tired. I just want to hide from the world and pretend I don’t exist today. I don’t want to talk to family. I just want to curl up and wait for the day to pass.

If I’m honest, I am so sorry. I’m sorry to whine and complain. I’m sorry to be so heavy lately. I’m sorry if your eyes roll and you stop reading. I’m sorry I can’t seem to cope better, be better, do better.  I’m just not sure where else to put my feelings.

If I’m honest, I’m so grateful for your support, love and concern. I do think so much of you all. I wonder how your children are, how your vacation was, how your illness is passing. I wonder what you had for dinner, how school or work is going and I wonder how you are doing. Just, how you’re feeling.

So, how are you feeling? What’s going on with you?

When Friends Hurt

There are always people hurting. Sometimes more, sometimes less. Sometimes they tell you, sometimes they don’t.  Sometimes it is physical, sometimes it’s emotional. Sometimes it’s obvious, but sometimes it is subtle, quiet and insidious.

No matter what it is, unfortunately, there is rarely anything you can do but love them and express that to them. They might not be in a place to actively hear it, but they will retain that. Even so, say it again. Over and over. 

You can tell them they are allowed to be weak and hurt, but that they are strong for just being there. You can help them let down if they need to and you can help hold them up if they need that too.

So often, none of that feels like enough. A friend spoke last night about FEELING the sadness of a neighbor’s house fire. Not just thinking, “oh that’s so sad.” and being able to go on with your night. I can so relate to that. I am grateful to every friend that expresses hurt or frustrstion. I want to hear it. It feels GOOD to recieve that little plea. Like…hey friend, I heard that. I’m here.

But I can’t stop there. I HURT on their behalf. I feel their ache. The darkness. I wouldn’t trade this gift or ever want anyone to stop sharing, but man. I feel it. I so often wish they knew how intensely I feel them. How genuinely I just really wish I could hug them, hold them and help. Even if we have never met.

The opposite is true also. I feel their joy and happiness. I feel their success and love. It’s a beautiful thing that makes me want to jump up and down with them, but the best I can often do is text, email, tweet or share my love and support in a comment. I hope they know how genuine my words truly are.

I’m so appreciative of those that share their love, support,  pain, hurt and their joy. It’s part of being vulnerable and I value that. Even if you can’t reach out and open up right now. Wherever you’re at, don’t you worry, I’ll protect that soft spot.

That’s what friends do.