Eschewing The Robot
The pain of others I always thought (rather stupidly) was something I was above feeling a whole lot about. Now I have a wonderful tendency of bursting out into tears when I learn of another's pain. On the radio, over blog posts, things that I watch. My mistaken sense of emotional strength because I thought I was too cold to be so affected by others has been replaced by the understanding that opening myself to another's joy/sadness/frustration takes more from me than ignoring and wanting to shut down. Now I just have to work on being able to show it to others.
I don't physically look anything like my mom, but I know I've inherited her difficulty to express herself pain to others and her wish to only show a misguided strong front to others. Here's the thing, I know what it's like to be on both ends of this. I've always hated showing tears to others, but it breaks my heart when I see it in others. The pain that I know is one millimeter from the surface is just that thin crust of holding things together and will stream from the cracks in other ways. The stiffness of facial expression, the dearth of words, the holding in of the body. All these protective instincts I recognize because I do it.
Let. It. Out.
I don't physically look anything like my mom, but I know I've inherited her difficulty to express herself pain to others and her wish to only show a misguided strong front to others. Here's the thing, I know what it's like to be on both ends of this. I've always hated showing tears to others, but it breaks my heart when I see it in others. The pain that I know is one millimeter from the surface is just that thin crust of holding things together and will stream from the cracks in other ways. The stiffness of facial expression, the dearth of words, the holding in of the body. All these protective instincts I recognize because I do it.
Let. It. Out.