Some woman

So many things in this world make us bleed. I think so many things are confusing and empty and hollow. I often say "I would cry if I had a heart." The terrible truth is...I really would. I am envious of those who can. But all my crying happens inside. The best I can hope for is a slow bleed.

It's easy for me to laugh. To joke. To make light of a situation and find the layers of humour in it. Sarcasm, criticism, cheeky snappy come backs...I own these things. Word plays, puns, quotes, advice...nail them.

Yet vulnerability, softness, tears.... This is not okay for me. For others, yes. Me? I would rather eat glass.

I don't attend funerals because that many grieving people in one place is like a pointed gun at my head.

When a friend is sad, I try to make them laugh as quick as possible.
I understand anger, and relate easily to it.

When I want to hug someone I don't often do it, mostly because touching someone in pain is like transferring their agony to me. I despise it. Foolishly, I have allowed this to happen, and I must admit that linking with certain people is a stupid thing to do.

I am not insensitive, quite the opposite. I am painfully, brutally, rediculously sensitive. My dad gifted me with the genetic trait of absorbing others' feelings. It exists whether you believe it or not. Some call it being empathic, others call it a curse or the mark of the devil. Some even think it's made up bullshit. Whatever you think, let me inform you it's a very real thing, and it's a painful secret that I rarely share. It is not talking to ghosts, reading the future or minds. What it is, is the absorption of the energetic emotional fields secreted by those around me. Close contact, especially touch is the quickest way to create a link, but with some people, just being in their presence is enough. This doesn't mean I "know stuff", it just means I can feel what you are feeling. If your words are the opposite, I am aware of your disharmony.

When I was a baby, my aunt carried me in a sack by her side. Being touched or held was hard for me. I cried a lot.

My mum brought me to a guru when I was young, who taught me to build a wall around myself.
 I learned to ignore feelings that were foreign to me. I learned to dress in layers and keep a distance between myself and those who emote heavy feelings. I discovered the art of separating what people say from the stark contrast of their emotional vibrations. I like being with people whose words match their feel, or who don't talk much at all.

I have been trying to learn how to break down that wall I built, without leaving myself open to the pain of others. I feel so deeply and grieve so long lasting. I just don't know how to control it properly. I am afraid of it. I am afraid to be mocked for it. Mostly I am afraid of putting it on others.
There is no one to hold me when I cry or tell me it's okay to have a bad day. Instead I get told I'm silly or crazy or need a B12 shot. I get walked out on or ignored. Strangely, when I actually do break down on a rare occasion, those who care don't know how to handle me. Their discomfort makes me feel even worse, so I go away from them as fast as I can.

This is my reality. One I have created in one way or the other.

These things are slowly ending for me. In the last few months I have stretched out to expose my belly and found it horrific. I want to recoil and say oh hell no to all of this. Then I hear Victoria in my head, reminding me that this is so worth it. I will not turn back, I will not back down. These bumps are worth it, these bruises deserved.

I would like to think that:

One day I will no longer be afraid. One day I will be able to share or express my softer side, because it really is there. Even if I never find myself comfortable enough to cry, I will at least not be afraid of it. Somewhere, buried or sleeping, there is a woman waiting to come out. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna like her, even if she bleeds now and then.