Lot of my friends are hurting at the moment, and I don’t like it. Just finished reading a post over at Britt’s blog and it made me…acquire severe eye allergies. Same thing happened when I found out Hilly’s cat died recently.
Yeah, again…you can do whatever you want to me, say whatever you want, and I’ll be just fine. Fuck with my friends, though? Look out.
I don’t know what it says about me that I can cry for Britt and Hilly (and other friends), but not myself. Other than that I’m a hot mess, I mean.
I know why the Numbness exists. It’s a protective mechanism that our bodies/minds throw out there. It’s common, particularly for people who have suffered through trauma. Sometimes the world is too much to bear and our brain says, “Fuck this shit. Emotions OFF!” It feels good, being numb after so much pain. But it can be scary, too, particularly when you’re an emotionally-connected person.
I spoke about this phenomenon last night with my bestest bud, Mindy. We sat on her front porch, smoking and talking. She recounted some of the crap happening with her at the moment, there may have been some tears, and I sat and listened…threw in some commentary and advice as needed.
But me? I felt…hardly a thing. I mean, she’s sitting there, telling me about this and that, a lot of it I can relate to. A lot of it is happening to me AT THIS VERY SAME MOMENT. But I can’t FEEL.
And that’s exasperating. On one hand, as I told the Matrix Therapist on Friday, I’m terrified of connecting to this overbearing sadness within me. Feeling that overwhelming sense of grief and pain and sorrow? Actually letting it rush through me, take me over? Crying my eyes out, pounding fists into the snotty pillow?
Fear on a paralyzing level.
On the other hand, I NEED to let that shit happen.
Mindy said to me – after we had talked about her strife sufficiently – that she felt completely safe with me. Like she could tell me anything, without fear of judgment. That she doesn’t wear any “hats” with me. I call them “masks,” those different versions of ourselves that we present under appropriate circumstances. Hell, I’ve been a mask-wearer for as long as I can remember. Put on a Happy Face here, a Clown mask over here, a Thoughtful and Understanding mask here…etc.
With me, though, she says there are no Hats. And that’s nice to hear.
“I wish, though,” she went on, “that you would realize you can do the same with me.”
And there’s the bitch, right?
“I know I can,” I told her. “I wish I could…FEEL enough to describe to you what’s going on with me. I know it’s safe to tell you anything. I know it’s safe to cry with you. But…I can’t even cry by MYSELF.”
She gets it, totally. But wanted to put it out there, that this friendship isn’t a one-way street. That I can share more of myself than I am, and still have us be okay.
Right. So what the fuck? Why does it take a song to make me cry, when I can’t feel or cry about my own shit? Why does it take a blog post to get me all teary-eyed, when I can drone on for 10 minutes on a video blog about my own pain and then watch it later and feel zilch?
Why is it that I’ve never told a single, solitary friend…EVER…about details of my shit? Sure, they’re clued in on the very basics. But I’m afraid to put the nastiness in their laps. What’s that about?
Part of me says I’m not lovable as I am, and if I told them the dark gristly details, then I’d be even less so. Bullshit, I know, but these are my thoughts, mind you. Not necessarily the most logical thoughts.
Part of me, of course, is scared shitless that if I lay down the specifics with a close friend, they’ll sit there in shock and actually hug me or say supportive and loving things, and then I may actually connect with that sadness. And cry. Like, in FRONT of someone.
And I’ll curl up into a fetal ball and sob and sob and sob impossible amounts of tears until I’m dead. Again, bullshit. We only have so many tears in our body. You can’t cry forever, it’s impossible.
But you can SCREAM forever. Inside your head, anyway. And I worry that if I allow myself to connect, that’s what’ll happen.
More and more I’m hearing from friends, that they want me to know I can share more of myself with them. In my dichotomous mind, I react in various ways to this realization. (1) I’m touched. (2) I’m surprised. (3) I’m glad. (4) I’m scared.
And on and on.
Here’s what I know for sure. It would be a very, very good thing – therapeutically speaking – for me to take some of these people up on their offer. To really TALK and open up about myself. To really tell someone, even just one person, the horrors zipping about within my gray matter.
Matrix Therapist asked me on Friday why it is I’m being so “revealing” about my depression on my blog lately.
My immediate response was, “Because I can’t bring the funny right now.”
MT: “So why write anything at all?”
Me: “Because if I don’t write anything, I’ll drop off the map. Totally off the grid. For a long, long time.”
MT: “But why share your struggle with your blog?”
Me: “Because my blog is ME. Whatever I’m going through at the moment, I put it out there. If I’m feeling goofy and silly, I may dance on a video or write a stupid Top 10 list or something.”
MT: “But when you first met me and we talked about your blog, you said it was just a ’silly humor blog.’”
Me: “Yes. Well, it is. Usually. But if I don’t get this shit out somehow…”
MT: “Then what?”
Me: “I don’t know how to explain it. Writing is my go-to skill. It’s what I’m best at, aside from self-flagellation. If I’m going to express myself, writing is the way to go. I feel the need to get it out somehow.”
Then we started talking about people’s REACTIONS to my depressing posts, and whether I was able to soak in the comments I’ve received. (The answer is no, btw.) And how strange it is to me that I get more comments with those “real” posts than I do when I’m trying to be funny. And what THAT means. (Gee, I don’t know, Karl. Perhaps people relate more to you when you’re being REAL and GENUINE? Hmm, whatever.)
On and on, it goes. It boils down to this, it seems. It doesn’t matter how intelligent I may be. I’m still utterly confused about a ton of shit. I’m afraid. Anxious. Global warming doesn’t scare me in the least. The prospect of nuclear winter? Nope. But God forbid I should FEEL something real…like anger or sadness.
that shit brings me to my knees
Don’t Give Up
(Peter Gabriel w/ Kate Bush)
In this proud land we grew up strong
We were wanted all along
I was taught to fight, taught to win
I never thought I could fail
No fight left or so it seems
I am a man whose dreams have all deserted
I’ve changed my face, I’ve changed my name
But no one wants you when you lose
Don’t give up
cos you have friends
Don’t give up
You’re not beaten yet
Don’t give up
I know you can make it good
Though I saw it all around
Never thought I could be affected
Thought that we’d be the last to go
It is so strange the way things turn
Drove the night toward my home
The place that I was born, on the lakeside
As daylight broke, I saw the earth
The trees had burned down to the ground
Don’t give up
You still have us
Don’t give up
We don’t need much of anything
Don’t give up
cause somewhere there’s a place
Where we belong
Rest your head
You worry too much
It’s going to be alright
When times get rough
You can fall back on us
Don’t give up
Please don’t give up
got to walk out of here
I can’t take anymore
Going to stand on that bridge
Keep my eyes down below
Whatever may come
And whatever may go
That river’s flowing
That river’s flowing
Moved on to another town
Tried hard to settle down
For every job, so many men
So many men no-one needs
Don’t give up
cause you have friends
Don’t give up
You’re not the only one
Don’t give up
No reason to be ashamed
Don’t give up
You still have us
Don’t give up now
We’re proud of who you are
Don’t give up
You know it’s never been easy
Don’t give up
cause I believe there’s a place
There’s a place where we belong
Avoiding all raw emotion is one of the most effective defense mechanisms I have seen in action. But! If you do it long enough, the affects will bring you to your knees as well.
I have struggled with depression for so long, so I understand your situation. Maybe finally opening up and crying about yourself will really give you relief, instead of more fear and pain?
Good luck to you, no matter the path you take to happiness.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 7th, 2009 at 3:08 pm
@Danielle-Lee, Yes, it is effective. But it’s also detrimental when you’ve been doing it too long, as you said. The trouble with living w/o most emotions for a long time is that they’re a BITCH to turn back ON. Trying to learn what this feeling is and what that one is? Ugh.
Reply
Um. Hi. I like you. And I don’t like you to hurt. ((hug))
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 7th, 2009 at 3:08 pm
@Miss Grace,
Thanks, hon. Right back atcha.
Reply
Sadness and tears aren’t for just the big HUGE things–not that the huge things aren’t there, but who can feel that kind of crushing sadness on a day to day basis. We’re not meant to. I put the big sad stuff in a box and go near it only now and again. I think the MT is right about taking a walk around the lake or somewhere. Walks do it for me. Watching a sunrise. **hugs**
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 7th, 2009 at 3:09 pm
@Heather, I agree we shouldn’t just sit in those crushing emotions forever. But we ARE meant to experience them on occasion, at least. I may do the walk thing.
Reply
I relate to so much of what you’ve written that I don’t know where to start.
You’re not alone. Your friends WILL. NOT. judge you. And perhaps allowing them to love you, feel for you, cry for you will be the catalyst you need to do those same things for yourself. I know it’s trite to say “I understand,” but I get it. Most days I wish I didn’t, but I do.
Thinking about you. *squishy hugs*
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 7th, 2009 at 3:10 pm
@Chibi Jeebs, Not trite, really. Thanks.
Reply
Processing takes time. You have to do it, and you will…eventually. (I’ll tell you more in email. It gets worse before it gets better, but get better, it will.)
Hang in there hon. No matter what, you know you’re not alone. And even if you became a blobbering mess in front of your friends, we’d still love you.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 8th, 2009 at 11:35 am
@Kris, In my HEAD I know that.
It’s the fucking HEART that’s the problem.
well, no, not true. The head is also pretty fucked.
Reply
The best part of this is you are getting the help you want and need. I always thought it was a guy thing to avoid the whole tears and drama of “feeling” but sometimes we need to cry and get it out. Maybe, somehow, someway, your therapist can help you find a way to let it out a little at a time so it doesn’t overwhelm you.
I was reading a book the other day, fiction, and there was a quote that immediately made me think of you.
” A fine line separates the weary recluse from the fearful hermit. Finer still is the line between hermit and bitter misanthrope.”
You are doing all the right things, making sure you get out and about and not holing up by yourself. Talking about it with a professional. You know what the problem is and want to fix it. Every journey begins with one step.
Hang in there hon, you’ll make it!
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 8th, 2009 at 11:37 am
@cathy, Love that quote. I’m only misanthrop’ISH, really.
I’m really starting to feel like this blog has become nothing but whining lately. Ugh.
Reply
Oh this song… it’s a HUGE part of my college years and my first love. But I digress.
You’ll get there. Inch by inch, you get closer every day. Don’t give up.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 8th, 2009 at 11:38 am
@Finn, Thanks, babe. Big song for me, too. Hell, that whole album is big to me, really. Peter Gabriel rocks. As does Kate Bush. But it’s really HER lines in the song that get me all teary.
Reply
Obviously you are getting closer to the pus-filled core of that wound, because you are being raw with your readers about your struggle…more so than in the past, I think. It’s gradual…getting comfortable baring your scars. It’s a journey, and it’s got to be at whatever pace you can handle.
I never told anyone about being raped until I wrote about it on my blog for the RAINN campaign last year, (which is how I found you, oddly enough). 13 years of silence. It took me that long, and what happened to me was awful, but it wasn’t repetitive like most child abuse is, and I was able to process it as an adult. Not from the perspective of a confused, hurt, scared child.
I love you. Like, really love you. No matter how ugly the truth of what happened to you is. And I know I’m not alone in that. It’s hard to just be loved sometimes. But you are, nonetheless.
Side note: I’d say 75% of the parents I work with are Survivors. They have let their past determine their present and futures, by repeating patterns, and by allowing what happened to them keep them from being the best parents they can be so they can break the cycle. You may be struggling with opening up that part of your past, but it’s clear from the way you talk about your ex-wife and daughters that you didn’t let it paralyze you when it was most important. That has earned you my admiration and respect as a parent, aside from that which you have for being my friend.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 8th, 2009 at 11:41 am
@Angel Smith, I don’t really think I’m closer to where I need to be, but it’ll happen. Still haven’t discussed anything in detail in therapy. We always seem to talk about other shit.
And trust me, I’ve been paralyzed more often than not during critical times. Fuck, the stories I could tell.
Thanks, babe. Can’t wait to see you soon.
Reply
I would love you then…
Your true friends can handle whatever you tell them. Trust them.
I’m always here. Forever.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 8th, 2009 at 11:44 am
@Sassy, I have nothing smartass to reply with on that.
Thanks, hon. That means a lot to me.
Reply
You know how I will cry at the drop of a dime? Mad? Cry. Sad? Cry. Frustrated? Cry. Happy? Cry.
I never used to cry, believe it or not. Back about ten years ago or so, I was the same way you are. I would hold back all of those emotions so that I wouldn’t have to feel them because they scared me. I remember one day being with a friend of mine who I never really opened up to before and suddenly I was sobbing my eyes out. I went home and cried on and off for two days straight and oh man, the pain. It felt as if my heart was breaking and the tears would never ever stop.
But they did. And you know what happened after that? Not only was I able to cry and feel my emotions at the moment but I also felt so much happier and better inside. Releasing those tears is an essential part of healing and moving forward so even if it scares you, I suggest trying really hard to let them go. You can even come here to do it if you want. This house is no stranger to days and days of bawling.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 8th, 2009 at 11:46 am
@Hilly, appreciate you sharing that. It’s the most fucked up thing, that I know COGNITIVELY what you’re saying is 100% dead-on accurate…but the gap from my head to my heart…is keeping me from letting it happen.
Fear. Sucks.
And I may be visiting Chez Hil soon. Thanks, babe.
Reply
I can tell you that it feels like you can scream inside your head forever – but you don’t.
When you scream enough on the outside, it eventually goes away. Wanna come sit by me until you cry? I can totally handle crying.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 8th, 2009 at 11:47 am
@Miss Britt, Yes, I might. I mean, I won’t like the actual CRYING part, of that you can be sure. But I know I adore YOU, so there’s that.
Reply
Interesting post Karl.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 9th, 2009 at 3:38 pm
@Kim, Um, thanks?
Reply
Didn’t we just talk about this?!
I think you’ve felt stuff, and I am not truly certain or understanding on the actual importance of crying. I am so not a cryer (crier?) – it takes a lot for me to cry, but I do, from time to time. Usually it’s stuff that’s built up over time and then I end up crying over something stupid. A cry now and then is kinda refreshing, actually, but I never feel it’s vital to my mental health.
I am so not trying to be judgey, which I think you know. I am kinda buzzed and thinking out loud.
Anyway, I think maybe you just don’t need to cry. As far as opening up to people, you know I’m here, but there’s no time limit on that, either. You do it when you’re ready. Or it feels right, or whatever. No pressure.
xo
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 9th, 2009 at 3:39 pm
@Sybil Law, I, on the other hand, DO think crying is good for mental health. It’s just my experience, of course. I don’t think you sound judgey at all.
Reply
I never knew there was a video of that song.
Thanks. And for sharing, too.
Reply
Secondhand Karl Reply:
October 9th, 2009 at 3:39 pm
@tokenblogger, Yep, I remember that video well.
Reply
I’ve been through this with the hubs. He saw/did somethings in the marines that he considered pretty heinous and unforgivable. He never told anyone, just let them fester inside him for the longest time. He thought no one would accept him after they knew what had happened to him and the things he did. It took him a while to open up to me, but he did. He told me everything, in varying amounts of detail, and he cried. He cried for his friends that were gone, he cried for the parts of him that died inside because of circumstances, and he cried for that person he was in the before time, that person he would never get back. I listened to it all, and I didn’t say anything. He didn’t need me to, he just needed to get it out. The crying did stop, and the healing started. He talks about those things more freely now (with me – not just anyone) because I think getting them out to someone who didn’t judge him for what he considered the ultimate sins took away some of their power over him. It has helped me understand him on a whole new level, and it has saved our relationship. I hope you can find that too.
Reply
I’m catching up on your blog after ages away… wanted to let you know that the reason you get more comments on your “real” posts isn’t necessarily because people relate more to your “real’ness,” but because people love and care for you and want to help. There’s nothing to help when you’re being funny.
And I’ll throw my hat in the ring as somebody who trusts you a great deal, and knows you won’t judge me. I know we’re not really in touch anymore, but there was a time when I told you a lot of crap that I could barely say outloud, let alone to my bestest of friends, and I never regretted that decision (in fact, it helped me work out a lot of shit in my own mind and my life). So I’d be happy to return the favor if ever you need to talk, or find yourself wanting to let it all out.
Sometimes it is easier to be “real” with people you don’t know as well, than it is with people you are super duper close to. I have a hard time opening up to my closest friends sometimes, because I don’t want them to worry about me…
Reply