Words of the Heavy Heart

"I am in so much pain!" People ask where it hurts as I am bawling, in hysterics, hyperventilating. "In my heart, in my soul, I don't know!" They chuckle as that was not the response they were expecting. But when I don't join in the laughs, they get serious again, fumbling for ways to help as they simply do not know what to do.

This past year has been set with very shattering lows and magnificent highs. I still struggle as I try to untangle all of the feelings...the sorrow, the anger, the anxiety....the fear....the guilt. So much fear. So much guilt.

I have been lucky that for the last year I have had an amazing man by my side through thick and thin. I wish I could help him understand the enormity of my emotions, but if he truly knew, he would be scared. So even though I will keep trying as he persists in wanting to understand, I never wish he know the true depth of my anxiety.

He was there the first day this all began (again)...

A year ago you hurt me. You hurt us...by hurting yourself. I saw it coming. I knew you were depressed. I could see it in your eyes, I could see it in the way you held yourself. I tried prying, tried understanding. I dug and dug, only to find out that what you gave me was all superficial. Yes, those were the things that you were dealing with, but I did not understand how deeply they were moving your heart...your soul.

I came over to find you being taken to the hospital, being told you had accidentally overdosed. Maybe they were trying to cover the truth for your sake...for my sake...but I foolishly believed them. Again, I failed to see how deep the hurt was...to understand the true complexity of the situation. I stayed behind, trying to make things seem normal for others...maybe I thought everything was normal? I would not let myself think about the reasons...why would this happen? I tried to keep myself innocent and oblivious.

But as time went on, I had to face it head on as I was forced to face more and more of the truth. I didn't want to...I was scared of what I would find...and I think you knew that. I never did get the truth from you. For each of us, a different story. Maybe you knew I didn't want to face the truth...that I would crumble from its weight...I was heartbroken that you didn't feel you could share with me...but I did find out and you would have been right...I crumbled from so many different pressure points.

Why would you not open up to me? I tried to talk it out with you just two days ago.

Why would you do this? Don't you know we would miss you?

How could you do this!? I was angry you could be so selfish as to not know how it would affect others. This person withdrew...that person got sick and cautious of their every decision and how it would affect you. Me? I was destroyed.

So many of us deal with these exact same issues...I deal with these exact same issues. I thought we had an unspoken pact that no matter how bad it got, we would never do this. We would never let it get this far.

As a matter of fact, at one point in my life it did nearly get this far. The ONLY reason I never went through with it was because of you. I didn't believe you would follow in my footsteps, but maybe you would do something drastic...maybe hurt yourself in some way. (When I told you this, you weren't worried about me...you were worried that I thought of you as weak.)

So yeah, I held on to a lot of guilt and a lot of anger for months and months. Guilt for unsuccessfully trying to help you and anger that you did not think about how your choice would have affected the rest of us.

Those feelings, mixed with the stress of my job led me to at least weekly anxiety attacks of grand proportions. My hair fell out in giant clumps. My nails stopped growing. I gained weight. I never got any sleep. The stress of my job grew as I could not reach my own expectations as I was just too tired...physically and mentally...to accomplish the simplest of tasks.

I broke down. I shut down.

And now I feel fear...so much fear. I am not there to watch your every move. I am not there to make sure you know you are wanted. I am not there to make sure you are taking your medicine, or going to therapy. I am not there to help the others as they deal with the fallout of this episode. I feel I have made it worse by moving away. By trying to be my own person.

I should be fully enjoying this new stage in my life. But instead, I am terrified.

Goodbye, 2012

Beside the death of a friend, 2012 was a great year. I have moved forward in so many things instead of being stagnant. I took the time to figure out who I am and what I want in life besides a degree. It was great just spending some alone time, but I have to say that it's great to be back in the social scene...even if it's only in the slightest way.

This travel blog photo's source is TravelPod page: Germany

I'm tired, and sad.
A friend of mine that I was close with at one point died last week in a plane crash. They have no idea what happened. The plane just went down. I don't know, it's just awful, and I don't understand it. How can people so young, full of life, and on fire for God just be gone like that? In an instant he passed away. It doesn't make any sense.

He will be missed by so many people.
R.I.P. Luke Sheets

A man dies.
Does anybody miss him?
Is he suppose to be forever alone, even into death?
That hardly seems fair. And what does he have to show for his life?
Did he leave a legacy?
Why do we have to live? So that we can die?
Life. A strange concept when it comes to such early demise.
So much left, yet all of it gone.
Slipped through like the sands of an hour glass.
Not even to go into someone else's hour glass.
Just to sit there, useless, needed by so many, yet wasting away.
I guess that that is what is meant by "life's not fair."

I'm in a mood...

I have been in this mood lately...I want to say that it is an artistic mood, but I am not artistic in most ways. I do write, and I love to do that, but at what point is it called art? I know that I consider literature art, but is it only the good books that I find artistic? Haven't thought about that much.

I like to write short stories. It is quite fun making up a mini world of your own. Right now I am working on one large story and failing at finishing all of my little ones. I think I am going to start putting them up on one of my other blogs more often so that way I feel like they have to get done.

My short stories come from my dreams. When I was little, my mom would always pray that we would have a peaceful sleep with no dreams. One night it was my turn to pray and I prayed that I would a peaceful night with nice dreams. My mom about flipped on that one. I had to explain to her that I really liked my dreams. That they were like stories or movies that I got to watch every night. I was glad that she understood because that ended up being our new prayer every night. Sure, I will occasionally have a bad dream, but if I wake up and there was not a happy ending, I will go back to sleep if I don't have to be at work or school.

I thought it was funny when Stephanie Meyer said that the Twilight series was derived from one of her dreams. I thought it was ridiculous that she dreamt about a sparkly vampire falling in love with a human and that she then decided to make a book out of that! But then I realized that that was, in fact, brilliant! I dream in stories anyway, why not write them down. Who knows....maybe one of them will turn into a mega hit like Twilight...although, I just write for pure fun :)

I am about to go add a bit to my Julianna Hope story. Ciao for now!

and then i come to the realization that i am not alone.

edit:: wow, i was trying to put "and then i come to the realization that i am alone"...i wrote that without even thinking. obviously my subconscious knows that i am not alone. that's good to know :)