Sad Heart of Mine

I swear to fuck I'm cursed to feel all the emotions my family refuses to feel. I've maintained that I'd rather feel everything than nothing, but I didn't mean to tempt the fates as I have. And given the current state of things, primarily with my father, I've sworn off drinking. Not that I drank or smoked a lot, I'm just being the petulant receiver of the feelings. If this is what I'm inadvertently destined (using the term loosely), then fuck it. I'll feel every last bit of it.

* The next day * 

No. You know what? This isn't a curse. The ability to feel all the things that make us uniquely human should be felt. I remember so many nights growing up, sitting on my bed crying... the sobs that continued long after the tears dried. Probably due to dissociation, but I'd tell myself to stop feeling. Just... stop. I'd repeat this until I felt numb, or until I fell asleep. I remember the feelings, but I don't remember the events. I guess I don't need to remember then, and just knowing that I can't means that something not so good happened. I started doing this before I hit 5th grade. I still marvel at the fact that I don't have a substance use issue, and the only thing I really can claim addiction to is lip gloss (It's a thing, and if you know me, you know this to be true). I have hypochondriasis to thank for not getting into drugs or alcohol. At least this is my hot take. 

I'm doing a lot of rambling and honestly shits not okay. In a sense it is. I've had to set extremely sad and firm boundaries with my father as he's dealing with his own mental health issues. While many, including family will probably have a negative opinion of this, I don't fucking care. I love them, but this boundary is keeping me sane. It's helping me maintain my peace. All I can do right now is to mourn what I believe to be gone. I mourn the realization that my childhood was a full fledged steaming pile of dog shit. I mourn that neither of my parents provided the bare minimum, and that my grandparents had to play parents to their grandchildren. I mourn for what I thought I had but didn't. I mourn the loss of the man I remember. 

While the loss hurts, knowing that these two people.. my mother and father, take turns blaming their separate issues on both myself and my brother, have yet to address their issues. Those who blame cannot accept responsibility and their role in other's suffering. Ultimately, my morbid thoughts to go lying on my deathbed and thinking about regrets. In terms of my parents, I have none. Their actions are theirs and theirs alone. The responsibility lies solely on them. I've taken accountability and responsibility for my shortcomings. I've learned from them. I've lived the pain, the shame, guilt, fear.. but I know what hope feels like. The excitement and joy of finding myself. The pride knowing that I am not indeed a piece of shit as I've been lead to believe. I'm not. I know the sadness of this belief. I felt it. I held it far too long. But I found that after a while, it felt less. Less and less, and as I started to doubt the statement, it didn't hurt as much. The hurt was replaced with ... something else. Something else but positive. But I felt it. I felt every moment of it. So, if I am destined to feel, I want to feel it all. I want to feel the pain, the sadness, the shame because I know it makes the happiness feel all the more sweeter. So yes, I will feel it all. I am okay with being the emotional one. The one to isn't afraid to feel what my family refuses to because I know what it means. It means that I'm okay and I'm doing what I should be doing. 

xoxo.