Monday, May 12, 2014

Thoughts From the Unlovable Alien

The air outside is cloudy, cool and in stark contrast to the hot, windy days we've had recently. I hear the rain drop on the windows, and roof much like the tears in my lap. It's one of those days. If you're looking for warm , and fuzzy... this post isn't going to fulfill that.

It's happened again. I have been lied to. Betrayed, and forsaken.

At first there was anger, then the inevitable piecing out of what would be the logical way to handle the situation. I figured that out, and decided it was what was to be done. For a few days this was okay. Then that little voice inside of me got harder and harder to silence. It's the sound of my inner child, or whatever you want to call it. She began as an essence, but moved to a whisper. I escape her by daydreaming of times where things were better. There's no better way to soothe a current hurt than to get nostalgic. Suddenly, I am 15 again, and the possibilities are endless. I can remember when I felt I was something, and that I mattered. I don't search for a specific memory as much as how specific feeling. If I can at least artificially feel loved, and important than I can figure out how to get through another day. If I can convince myself that I am an okay person then I can cope, just one more day. That usually works for small bouts of loneliness, or rejections, but big ones? I just can't escape inside of my own head enough to alleviate that much sadness.

So, the little voice grows louder. Her mumbles begin to get more audible. "....doesn't like you..." and "..Your fault"... and more cynical statements begin surfacing. With it are the images of memories, and times long repressed to the back of my mind.

I get busy. I try to drown her out with tasks. I really don't have time for all this negativity. I have stuff to do! My house gets cleaner, as I fall apart inside. Perfection is soothing to me, as I strive to have the best of everything. Obsessive would be a good word to describe this phase of mental deterioration. To others it looks like I am just getting things done. I am. Sometimes, this motivation is all I need to snap back to feeling good again. However, if it isn't.... it is pretty much the last stop on the coping train.

If not, then what?