So here I am, merely existing at this point, reliving a nightmare every day, if not every few minutes, and talking about it so it doesn’t consume me. I’m grateful to be working because I have a routine every morning that keeps me occupied. Without my job, I would be in my chair with tears in my eyes, too afraid to go outside, too ashamed to talk to anyone, too lazy to do yoga. I shouldn’t relive what happened, but I constantly think about what could I have done differently to change the outcome. I would probably be a wreck anyway, but I would get over it, and continue on my merry way. I wouldn’t be picking up the pieces of myself as I’m doing now.
Words have energy, and these were the same words I used to hear on a daily basis. I covered that aspect of my life in a previous post. My antagoniser was a sub human named Nelson Kowlessar. Back then, his words made me feel lower than an asp full of buckshot. Decades later, I am now feeling the same way. Unworthy. Unloved. Unwanted. It destroys your spirit. You start to hate the world. You start to hate everything and everyone. Even the ones that are kind to you because you think they have some ulterior motive.
This time, it is different. I just don’t to be around anyone. This is my cross to bear alone. My pain to carry. I don’t wish to share this pain with anyone. But I remember how I helped others who were in the same position as I am now. They were feeling broken, and I listened to them, I validated their feelings, offered my advice, and I helped to take away whatever pain they were experiencing.
Now I’m the one that is feeling broken, and I can’t help anyone until I feel better. I hate it. It is an insult to whatever pride and honour I have left. I don’t want to be the one that is broken. I want to HELP people who are in crisis and need their pain to be taken away. Fortunately, the few friends that I have not run off do share their words of wisdom. One even prays for me. Sometimes I know not as to what to say to them for their kindness. I’m not used to that.
I can’t even type without my eyes getting teary. I suppose it means I am releasing the pain I am carrying. I do need to get it all out since I go back to work in a few hours. Sometimes I feel ashamed for being this way. That’s why I don’t want to talk to anyone. But I see that a few friends care, and I wish not to alienate them. I was thinking that I need something to help keep me grounded. On the cover of my trinket box is a dragon. I do love dragons. It reminds me that I’m not alone. When I was watching AHS: Cult that involves scenes from inside the Church of Satan, it was the dragon that kept me grounded because I felt very uncomfortable watching it. I wanted to turn the TV off, but I managed to watch the whole thing.
I will improve as time marches on, even though linear time is a human construct. I choose to document my journey here because it helps me to feel better. For now, I take it one day at a time. If I can go to work and come home without bursting into tears, its a victory. Say what you will, but until your spirit is broken, you will not understand.
The Introvert Soap Box 