A raw description of the internal workings of Becky. Almost
stream of consciousness. Written in less than five minutes.
Feel but don’t feel. The conundrum that my subconscious
struggles with on a moment by moment basis. I tend to feel very deeply. If I
allow my brain to process everyday feelings, I will be gutted by insecurity,
rocked to the core by sadness, over the moon with joy, and overwhelmed by love
every single day. So there is a constant restraint going on. A constant
monitoring of feeling and sensing, and a tightening of the reigns to hold it
all in. I’m an all or nothing person. Go big or go home. All feelings or no
feelings. There’s no intermediate position. When the door cracks open the flood
of feels breaks it off its hinges. When the door shuts it’s like a steel
bulkhead on a submarine that contains water to a compartment.
Many times, the result by appearances is of someone who does
not feel. Like I don’t care what impacts my words or actions have. That I can’t
empathize with the feelings of others. And thus one becomes a seemingly callous
individual that feels deeper than anyone would ever guess. Which of course adds
to what I will call “the battle of the feels.” If I allow myself to love
deeply, then I can be hurt deeply. If I allow myself to be invested in the
feelings of another, I open myself up to their pain and risk the potential
backlash of their own internal battle that would allow them to drop me like a
hot rock in an intensely hot summer day. If I close the doors, life is easier.
But is it really? Because when the doors close, that’s when I hurt others.
Often times I don’t even realize I’m hurting them. But I shut them out in the
same way that I fear I would be shut out. And then when the doors open I
process what pain I may have caused others and am crushed by the internal pain
of it myself.
Sometimes I wonder if everyone is the same way? Am I no
different than everyone else, even if I feel I am? I often think that I feel
deeper than others. Perhaps my extremes are simply more pronounced by the
absence of the intermediary. Perhaps we are all the same. Perhaps we are not.
Who can know if we are all living at some level of restrained being. I’m afraid
to just be. Failure, insecurity, and lack
of confidence have been an overwhelmingly stronger force than strength, hope,
and courage have ever been in my history of recollection.
A child throws the battle of feels into overdrive. The
intensity of love causes an dramatic increase in the intensity of worry,
insecurity, and frustration. Yet an entire days worth of negativity can be
melted by the sweetest cuddles and hugs one will ever experience. Which brings
in fear – how long will this last? How can I hold on to every single moment?
Intense guilt from working since this little bundle was 3 months old. Intense
guilt about being absent from any moments outside of work – to exercise, see
friends, travel on work trips. Constant guilt. Constantly not good enough.
Completely flooded by love.
You see the battle? How can these coexist? It is exhausting.
This is me. This has always been me. Is this just the way life is? Void of
contentment yet full of love? Constantly second guessing myself and replaying
every critical interaction through the “what could I have done differently” or
“where did I go wrong” filter? Feeling incredibly deeply, whilst refusing to
feel. Cutting off my own arm by slamming the bulkhead down. Allowing the door
to reopen and getting blown off my feet. Is there a middle ground? Is this how
everyone feels?
OK – time to close the door again. Til next time. May want to
invest in a life jacket.
