Broken.
Broken...
I feel broken inside.
I'm a caregiver. I'm a healer. I'm a patient and giving guardian. I give what I can give for as long as I can. I pick up the slack when it's needed. I hold people up when they are falling. I pull people out of despair... And transform people's lives. It's who I was raised to be. I am the next matriarch of my family. I am the leader my younger (and older) relatives turn to when they need direction. I'm the advice-giver. I am the support system. I'm a Care-Giver.
Or at least I used to be.
Something just... Snapped. Something just broke inside of me and the light turned off. I gave up. It was like suddenly someone else took over and threw up their hands and said "Enough." It's more like I split into two people. The person I was, and this new person I am. I don't really fit into either role though. I've been stepping in and out of the caregiver as needed with my family recently. ...But it feels like a hollow shape. Like I'm not a person anymore when I do this. But this other me doesn't feel right either... I feel cold-hearted and selfish.
...I liken it to this image where my subconscious had finally had enough of my repression... Like I've had enough of being the only person who gives, or puts anything into relationships... So it decided I'm not putting anything else in. I'm not giving any more pieces of myself away. I'm done. I'm not settling. I'm not letting anyone control me anymore. I'm not taking it anymore. I'm tired.
I'm broken.
It scares me because it feels like someone is below the surface beating against the walls of this prison I built. This shell I built around myself. Emotions are hovering outside of this new reality trying to get in. But all I feel is pain. The severing of this new person from who I was has pushed me to the deepest levels of despair. ...And when I "let go" I expected someone to grab me and pull me back up. Set me straight. Pull me back from the brink and hold me until the swirling maelstrom of my life stopped. Instead I found no hands and I plummeted deeper and deeper into the abyss. But by the time anyone noticed what had happened, I was too far away to grasp onto. Now I can't figure out how to get myself out of it. And no one can reach me.
My Aunt recently went into the hospital with a colon issue. Initially I thought it was "she who cries wolf" again, although I've been wrong once before. The majority of the time she is a bit of a hypochondriac who purposely does things to garner attention. But even when I found out it was an actual obstruction my ambivalence towards the matter did not entirely change. Which is unusual. If I felt like myself I would be filling the shoes I'm used to filling. I would have been in the hospital every day, if not for my aunt, but at the very least for my grandmother and mother who needed a break. Instead... I feel... Almost deadened by it. The process of going into the hospital itself strikes me with a cold fear. I don't want to be there. I don't want to deal with it. I don't want to be the caregiver. And more than anything I don't want anyone to see the deadness in my eyes. The lack of empathy. The coldness that permeates me. Even so, I did step up and take over the holiday for my family. I cooked on Christmas Eve and prepped things for my mother and grandmother who had been in the hospital all day. I wrapped a good majority of my mother's presents while she sat on the bed directly me as to who got what. On Christmas I took over organization and did everything I could to make sure things ran as smoothly as possible while they shifted back and forth between the hospital and the house. But it felt... Wrong. I was able to hide the feelings behind a mask of acceptance and calm. I've always been very good with masks. Hiding myself. But even with the mask I could see myself that a few people saw the turmoil. The hesitation.
I have tried to rationalize this situation to the last time I was really in a hospital, I mean really in a hospital for someone, I watched them die. It's an image that haunts me now. It wasn't just a person I watched die, it was someone I cared about. But more than that... I think I had to pick up so much responsibility when that happened that the prospect of falling into that role again paralyzes me with fear. It took me 6 months to find some sort of peace with Michael's mother's death. Even now, there are levels of denial because I never completely dealt with it. I couldn't. I had too much else going on to fight my own demons. I had to step up and take over when Michael and Marc needed it most. And I'm not saying I regret it. Because I don't. It's who I am, and who I was meant to be. I wanted to be there to create some sort of normalcy throughout the chaos. I knew they needed it, and its who I am. I'm perfectly suited to take over the reigns when people needs me to. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to.
...Only two people could see the hurt deep down below the surface... And I pulled the support I could from them without shattering, when I needed to. Even now it makes me cry to think about it. First my brother Michael came in and its like he saw the pain below my surface and I saw his tears form and and he gave me a hug and I felt a crack form and a few tears burst from me. I needed to know someone could feel the pain radiating below the surface of my calm exterior. I didn't have the time to let it out then in the synagogue because I needed to be the pillar of strength for Michael and his Dad. The second moment of truth came from a friend who stood right in front of me at the graveyard when I was walking to the burial plot and gave me a hug that shattered the little bit of strength I had left. As it were, I needed to sob for a moment... And it gave me additional strength to push on the rest of the day, while that same person stood behind me wherever I was, just in case I needed it. These two I can not express my gratitude for. I needed someone just as badly at that moment. I needed to pull strength from them, because everyone else was pulling it from me.
And I needed to be a pillar then. And I was. Because that's who I am.
...But right now I don't want to. I'm so afraid that someone is going to drop something on me, expecting me to handle it like I always do, but I won't be able to. I don't want to disappoint anyone. I don't want them to watch me fail. I don't want to fail everyone.
None of the puzzle pieces of my life fit anymore... No matter how hard I try to make them. It's horrifying. I've built this life from the plans I laid forth. Now there are no plans. It's like the moment I had some time to just enjoy things, I noticed something was wrong. Really wrong. All of these other little problems, like the downward spiral from my prior jobs in collections/sales were so overbearing that I couldn't see any other tears in the seams.
...I was watching a movie on Friday that struck a chord with me and this reality I built. Of course it would be a movie... But none the less... one of the main characters was always pushing, always planning, always looking over at the next patch of green grass... Trying to get there. And they didn't appreciate what they had. They didn't take any time to look at what they had. In contrast, I've been the person pushing forward, trying to get everything done as quickly as possible. But now I don't know who I am. I've defined myself by my achievements. But some of what was supposed to make me happy isn't. I'm just not happy with some of what I've done. I had this image of life, and the reality of this situation shattered all of my illusions. Everything I was raised to believe was half-truth. I was raised to believe in the decency of mankind and that hard work would shine through. That pushing forward you would eventually find happiness. I did everything I was supposed to. Everything that was expected of me and more. I've done everything I could... And I've watched everything fall around me. And I'm running out of time to correct things. I'm running out of time to turn things around for the better. And I need to figure this out now. I need a solution that works. I don't need patches and band aides... Because eventually you have to remove them, and they hurt like hell when you do. I kind of feel like I've had a bandage covering everything, every aspect of my life, and its been slowly peeling off... And when I could see out of the corners I tore the rest off, which left the wound raw and exposed.
Again I find myself relating/or quoting a movie... But I'm tired of living up to everyone expectations. "Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done! ... I have reordered time! I have turned the world upside down... And I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn't that generous?" ~Jareth
I don't like the life I created anymore. I don't want to be "me" anymore. I don't recognize this new person... But I know I need... Something. Something to break the spell that binds me to this place. I need help so desperately and I don't know how to get it.
I've been seeing a therapist. I've been uncovering some nasty gaping wounds in my life. I've been pulling myself apart every session and going home feeling relieved, until I get home and then the anxiety creeps back in. I haven't found any solutions and all I feel is fear. All I feel is fear. I am afraid I will have to destroy everything in order to move forward. There are things I'm not willing to expose to the rest of the world. Demons I am not read to let loose. I feel like I'm singing my own requiem every moment of the day, trying to find the stability I need to pull myself up and out of this. And I'm fear the consequences.
So if your expecting anything of me right now. You won't find it. I'm not a person right now. I'm just... Pieces of who I was. I may be someone entirely different when this is through. Or I may find the way to patch myself up enough to move on and continue to live despite the pain. I don't know what any of this means. I don't know who I'm becoming, or what I want. I also am well aware that I'm tearing other people apart in the process. People I care for I am hurting because I am so hurt that I don't know what to do. And for that I am sorry. I am so sorry. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I can't seem to help it. I wish I could figure out how to fix me without lashing out... Without dragging everyone down with me. I'm trying. I swear I am trying. So if you can find it in your heart... Please forgive me of these indiscretions. I am trying so hard to find the answers. I am trying to hard to find the connecting pieces of my life.
I'm just... Broken.
I feel broken inside.
I'm a caregiver. I'm a healer. I'm a patient and giving guardian. I give what I can give for as long as I can. I pick up the slack when it's needed. I hold people up when they are falling. I pull people out of despair... And transform people's lives. It's who I was raised to be. I am the next matriarch of my family. I am the leader my younger (and older) relatives turn to when they need direction. I'm the advice-giver. I am the support system. I'm a Care-Giver.
Or at least I used to be.
Something just... Snapped. Something just broke inside of me and the light turned off. I gave up. It was like suddenly someone else took over and threw up their hands and said "Enough." It's more like I split into two people. The person I was, and this new person I am. I don't really fit into either role though. I've been stepping in and out of the caregiver as needed with my family recently. ...But it feels like a hollow shape. Like I'm not a person anymore when I do this. But this other me doesn't feel right either... I feel cold-hearted and selfish.
...I liken it to this image where my subconscious had finally had enough of my repression... Like I've had enough of being the only person who gives, or puts anything into relationships... So it decided I'm not putting anything else in. I'm not giving any more pieces of myself away. I'm done. I'm not settling. I'm not letting anyone control me anymore. I'm not taking it anymore. I'm tired.
I'm broken.
It scares me because it feels like someone is below the surface beating against the walls of this prison I built. This shell I built around myself. Emotions are hovering outside of this new reality trying to get in. But all I feel is pain. The severing of this new person from who I was has pushed me to the deepest levels of despair. ...And when I "let go" I expected someone to grab me and pull me back up. Set me straight. Pull me back from the brink and hold me until the swirling maelstrom of my life stopped. Instead I found no hands and I plummeted deeper and deeper into the abyss. But by the time anyone noticed what had happened, I was too far away to grasp onto. Now I can't figure out how to get myself out of it. And no one can reach me.
My Aunt recently went into the hospital with a colon issue. Initially I thought it was "she who cries wolf" again, although I've been wrong once before. The majority of the time she is a bit of a hypochondriac who purposely does things to garner attention. But even when I found out it was an actual obstruction my ambivalence towards the matter did not entirely change. Which is unusual. If I felt like myself I would be filling the shoes I'm used to filling. I would have been in the hospital every day, if not for my aunt, but at the very least for my grandmother and mother who needed a break. Instead... I feel... Almost deadened by it. The process of going into the hospital itself strikes me with a cold fear. I don't want to be there. I don't want to deal with it. I don't want to be the caregiver. And more than anything I don't want anyone to see the deadness in my eyes. The lack of empathy. The coldness that permeates me. Even so, I did step up and take over the holiday for my family. I cooked on Christmas Eve and prepped things for my mother and grandmother who had been in the hospital all day. I wrapped a good majority of my mother's presents while she sat on the bed directly me as to who got what. On Christmas I took over organization and did everything I could to make sure things ran as smoothly as possible while they shifted back and forth between the hospital and the house. But it felt... Wrong. I was able to hide the feelings behind a mask of acceptance and calm. I've always been very good with masks. Hiding myself. But even with the mask I could see myself that a few people saw the turmoil. The hesitation.
I have tried to rationalize this situation to the last time I was really in a hospital, I mean really in a hospital for someone, I watched them die. It's an image that haunts me now. It wasn't just a person I watched die, it was someone I cared about. But more than that... I think I had to pick up so much responsibility when that happened that the prospect of falling into that role again paralyzes me with fear. It took me 6 months to find some sort of peace with Michael's mother's death. Even now, there are levels of denial because I never completely dealt with it. I couldn't. I had too much else going on to fight my own demons. I had to step up and take over when Michael and Marc needed it most. And I'm not saying I regret it. Because I don't. It's who I am, and who I was meant to be. I wanted to be there to create some sort of normalcy throughout the chaos. I knew they needed it, and its who I am. I'm perfectly suited to take over the reigns when people needs me to. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to.
...Only two people could see the hurt deep down below the surface... And I pulled the support I could from them without shattering, when I needed to. Even now it makes me cry to think about it. First my brother Michael came in and its like he saw the pain below my surface and I saw his tears form and and he gave me a hug and I felt a crack form and a few tears burst from me. I needed to know someone could feel the pain radiating below the surface of my calm exterior. I didn't have the time to let it out then in the synagogue because I needed to be the pillar of strength for Michael and his Dad. The second moment of truth came from a friend who stood right in front of me at the graveyard when I was walking to the burial plot and gave me a hug that shattered the little bit of strength I had left. As it were, I needed to sob for a moment... And it gave me additional strength to push on the rest of the day, while that same person stood behind me wherever I was, just in case I needed it. These two I can not express my gratitude for. I needed someone just as badly at that moment. I needed to pull strength from them, because everyone else was pulling it from me.
And I needed to be a pillar then. And I was. Because that's who I am.
...But right now I don't want to. I'm so afraid that someone is going to drop something on me, expecting me to handle it like I always do, but I won't be able to. I don't want to disappoint anyone. I don't want them to watch me fail. I don't want to fail everyone.
None of the puzzle pieces of my life fit anymore... No matter how hard I try to make them. It's horrifying. I've built this life from the plans I laid forth. Now there are no plans. It's like the moment I had some time to just enjoy things, I noticed something was wrong. Really wrong. All of these other little problems, like the downward spiral from my prior jobs in collections/sales were so overbearing that I couldn't see any other tears in the seams.
...I was watching a movie on Friday that struck a chord with me and this reality I built. Of course it would be a movie... But none the less... one of the main characters was always pushing, always planning, always looking over at the next patch of green grass... Trying to get there. And they didn't appreciate what they had. They didn't take any time to look at what they had. In contrast, I've been the person pushing forward, trying to get everything done as quickly as possible. But now I don't know who I am. I've defined myself by my achievements. But some of what was supposed to make me happy isn't. I'm just not happy with some of what I've done. I had this image of life, and the reality of this situation shattered all of my illusions. Everything I was raised to believe was half-truth. I was raised to believe in the decency of mankind and that hard work would shine through. That pushing forward you would eventually find happiness. I did everything I was supposed to. Everything that was expected of me and more. I've done everything I could... And I've watched everything fall around me. And I'm running out of time to correct things. I'm running out of time to turn things around for the better. And I need to figure this out now. I need a solution that works. I don't need patches and band aides... Because eventually you have to remove them, and they hurt like hell when you do. I kind of feel like I've had a bandage covering everything, every aspect of my life, and its been slowly peeling off... And when I could see out of the corners I tore the rest off, which left the wound raw and exposed.
Again I find myself relating/or quoting a movie... But I'm tired of living up to everyone expectations. "Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done! ... I have reordered time! I have turned the world upside down... And I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn't that generous?" ~Jareth
I don't like the life I created anymore. I don't want to be "me" anymore. I don't recognize this new person... But I know I need... Something. Something to break the spell that binds me to this place. I need help so desperately and I don't know how to get it.
I've been seeing a therapist. I've been uncovering some nasty gaping wounds in my life. I've been pulling myself apart every session and going home feeling relieved, until I get home and then the anxiety creeps back in. I haven't found any solutions and all I feel is fear. All I feel is fear. I am afraid I will have to destroy everything in order to move forward. There are things I'm not willing to expose to the rest of the world. Demons I am not read to let loose. I feel like I'm singing my own requiem every moment of the day, trying to find the stability I need to pull myself up and out of this. And I'm fear the consequences.
So if your expecting anything of me right now. You won't find it. I'm not a person right now. I'm just... Pieces of who I was. I may be someone entirely different when this is through. Or I may find the way to patch myself up enough to move on and continue to live despite the pain. I don't know what any of this means. I don't know who I'm becoming, or what I want. I also am well aware that I'm tearing other people apart in the process. People I care for I am hurting because I am so hurt that I don't know what to do. And for that I am sorry. I am so sorry. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I can't seem to help it. I wish I could figure out how to fix me without lashing out... Without dragging everyone down with me. I'm trying. I swear I am trying. So if you can find it in your heart... Please forgive me of these indiscretions. I am trying so hard to find the answers. I am trying to hard to find the connecting pieces of my life.
I'm just... Broken.