A raw description of the internal workings of Becky

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.