With me, everything is “Private” – Private to the point I don’t share when I am in serious need of outside help, understanding or advice. I don’t even share when I’m in pain, because… you guessed it… it’s “private”.
I don’t share readily – the one person I share the most with is my boyfriend and even he feels I’m closed up half the time. He doesn’t press me… He knows I’ll share, eventually… partly. I think he knows I never share completely, and I justify it as ‘reasons’, but really… “private”. He knows how I am. Clearly he’s accepted it. (We don’t share a household. I would have to be far more open in that circumstance because I would have to be.)
As I told him today, one of the reasons I am so ‘closed’ is, his is the only opinion that matters. I don’t want him to know when I have trouble because I don’t want it to alter his opinion of me. I should know better than to think it does, but that’s the way I feel about it.
So, I am sure I haven’t mentioned it because well, basically I’ve been avoiding everything in life since that time, but I had a catastrophic event happen in October 2016 – I was standing in a mall in San Antonio, Texas attempting to use an ATM to buy what turned out to be a horrible breakfast. Seriously, even the coffee was bad; but it seems like it was indicative of what was to come.
…And cleaning up the mess therein.
I often find myself saying “but people wouldn’t understand”. I am sure that may seem self indulgent and narcissistic, as if my problems are *so* much that no one could possibly relate.
No. That’s not really it. That’s not how I mean it. I think, really, more of what’s going on is I don’t relate to how other people handle problems. I’m not faulting “others”, as I’m the odd man out. I see a similar behavior in others which I don’t possess. I really do not know how to ask for help and when I do try to ask for help, I tend to fail pretty epically at it.
Sometimes, I think I should talk to some one, go visit a therapist. The problem is, however, I am not sure I am ready to let these demons out. Yea, no. I’m not ready to walk with them, and likely, by the time I may be ready, they will be in the past…
…and I don’t visit the past readily. The past if gone, and I’m over it.
I may not need that therapist after all. I probably just have to get through today
I didn’t realize it hasn’t been as long as I thought since I last posted. Fact of the matter is, I forgot I even HAVE a blog and I last remember updating in June.
It’s really been a rough several of months. I seem to keep saying that, but perhaps it’s because it keeps being true.
I am finding my self in a condition, in a place, I never imagined I would be in. It’s terrifying to me. I feel that every little thing is final, and indicative of something much larger, however my logical brain knows that can not really be the truth.
I also find it really, universally, unfair – because I never took anything for granted, I never felt myself above anything or anyone else’s circumstances.
I know, also, I can not move forward with that mind set. It isn’t a matter of what is right or fair or even HOW it happened or laying blame; it’s a matter of realizing where you are and making a decision rather you want to be there or not and what you have to do to change it.