Emotional. Sensitive. Dramatic. “Why do you care so much?” “Why does it bother you?” “Who cares?” “Just let it go.” Overthinking. Spiraling. Why am I so affected by other people’s words? Other people’s actions? Feeling too much. Absorbing their emotions. Empath? “Why do you always do that?” “You’re overreacting.” “Just relax.” Relax? How can I relax? How can I relax when I’m hurt? I’m told I’m not allowed to be hurt. I’m not meant to react that way. I’m not allowed to feel unless that feeling makes everyone feel good.
Holding people to such a high standard only ends in disappointment. Disappointment. Disappointed in myself that I feel too much. That I am too much. Too much of anything is a bad thing. Right?
One thought after the other. As if my mind is a race car. And the track I’m racing on is my life. Make it stop. Hit the brakes. I want to get out. I don’t care if I lose this race.
Tears flow freely from my eyes. Crying is something I’m all too familiar with. Crying is like sitting with an old friend. I know it so well. It’s comfort. Comfort? Perhaps not. Because the thought of feeling comforted feels so foreign. Unfamiliar. Uncharted territory.
I want to feel freely. I wish I could set my mind free from the chains that hold it hostage. I wish my thoughts could feel protected. Feel safe. Especially when in the hands of people who know me best. Yet, those are the times it feels most vulnerable.
Vulnerability. Ashamed to feel vulnerable. Ashamed when I let my emotions slip. Need to keep them on a tight leash. Otherwise they’ll flow. And that track I call my life will become a slippery slope. As for my car, well, it has no hope.
love, Sof
Comments