Do, do you know how to patch up a wound? Tell me
Are, are, are you, are you patient, understanding?
Cause I might need some time to clear the hole in my heart"
This time of year is always enjoyable, here in the north the air becomes cool and crisp, for a few weeks our trees light up in color before becoming bare and we get trapped into winter.
This time of year is also home to the two biggest holidays where people come together from around the globe, return to their family homes for what can be the most uncomfortable time of the year. My quote at the end of last night, Thanksgiving was "why can't holidays come once every six months, I don't know if I can recover to do it again in sixty days". This from a text to a friend of mine.
I've always hated family gatherings, not just holidays but any of them. Birthdays, picnics, graduations, etc because some way, some how my family will argue over something. Now in the last few gatherings have been nice, no drama and although cautious with Thanksgiving I do have to admit I let my guard down. At four in the afternoon my mother even mentioned that this was the longest time we've ever spent together as I was at the house since around eleven in the morning to help prepare the meal.
All was well enough until too much vodka was poured and tempers flared and shouting across the table between my mother and brother ensued. I sat silent along with my brother's girlfriend at the table, victims of this angry match.
I'm quietly tried to comfort my mother, offered her water because at one point she started to cry post argument and my brother did not try to apologize or recognize her sadness however for my own sake I had to depart and not just to put away the four bags of laundry I've done.
As I got my car and pulled away I broke down in tears on the road, my emotional break had come to surface and I could not contain it anymore. The argument brought up old currents that have been buried deep within my mind from my own childhood, my parent's excessive drinking, their angry arguments, verbal and possibly physical abuse....all the things that I have worked so hard to heal or in some cases my mind has blocked out to protect myself.
I am damaged.
My tears lasted all the way home until at that point my instincts kicked in and I shut down, locked away what I was feeling into that vault where all emotions are buried.
I am damaged...but will try not to let you see it.
My love of science fiction and the stage/movie is my desire to escape my own reality, my love of Martha Stewart is my desire to hide the truth. Like any victim of abuse the shame you feel for being a victim builds the desire to make all appear as well or normal.
Am I strong because I know my damage? Am I fool because I am still limited by them? Am I a fool because I think I can hide them? I do actually think I do a pretty good job since I've had some friends be surprised by somethings they aren't aware of until I tell them.
What it ultimately comes down to is that I need to stop the continuing amount, the learned behaviour and allow myself to live a better life moving forward.
I am thankful for the knowledge of that and now must continue with it's practice.
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