I am in this very weird place that I do not like at all. I don't know how I feel, and I don't have the words. I find myself looking for pictures, trying to make sense of what I feel inside. So many strings are attached to the awful things that have happened, and I can't seem to be let free. I work so hard on my healing, and sometimes it feels like it just isn't enough. I want to scream at myself to stop whatever it is I am doing because it's not working, and I want to be in a better place, but I don't know how to get there. Spunky is a huge barrier right now. It's just painful; so much of being an outlier for me feels like it comes from her, who is also me. Surviving so much, I was always ok; only now I'm not. Almost 40 years, and now I am not ok? I want to scream at that part of myself, tell her to pull up her bootstraps, that good things are happening, life is still terrifying, but no one is going to hurt her like they have in the past. I am stronger and would never let that happen. I do understand the terror and the fear, and yet I hate it. It was such a long time ago, and lately it feels like it's very close.
I feel like I don't belong in this DOC program. Like somehow I don't fit in but I am so happy there. I am not a fan of my classmates; they talk to hear themselves talk, everything is a joke, and they can't focus to save their lives. Goodness, I am trying to like them, but I am different. I don't see the jokes all the time, this is really serious for me, I hate that I am the only one who is not in the counseling field right I now, I am in a job, where I am not heard not listened too and it feels awful. There is just a lack of support where I am, and right now I need it more than ever. I worry if I am good enough, if I am smart enough. Everyone in the program has to out do the other. I only slept 5 hours last night; well, I only slept 2. That is just how the conversations go, and I am not in a place of competition.
I am in this lonely place, and I don't know if I am more her or she is more me. I have this broken heart that is spunky, and it's just so heavy. So many good things are happening, and the sadness of that time is overwhelming. Recently, some days it feels so close; it doesn't feel like it was almost 40 years ago. I know there isn't supposed to be a time limit, but for me, close to 40 years is more than enough. It is almost like feeling the things that I did at 13, the loneliness, the guilt, the deep, deep sadness. Times like this, I am not sure. Everything going on around me seems to reinforce how I felt at 13: unseen, unheard, almost invisible. At 13, I was an outlier; at 52, still an outlier. Still in pain and still can not believe the things that I have survived.
It's not a poor-me feeling; it's a loneliness that I have no words for. I want someone to understand that girl and all that she went through. I want someone to see her, hear her, and notice that she isn't ok. She is trying, so trying, but she is not ok. Like she is slowly drowning, but she still waves so no one knows the extent of the unimaginable. Always waving even as the tears flow. I want to find the words, heal the pain, and move on; there are lots of things for us to do. So many things to explain and ideas to be shared, but we have to make it out of this place that we are in, a place that no longer exists other than in the pictures I can't unsee.
I heart your heart
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