Ghosts of the past continue to haunt me, I feel the searing fire of their rejection, the loud rumbling of their laughter at my expense, their mockery lingers on in the recesses of my mind, the mere thought incenses me and fills me with shame and a punctured soul, yearning for acceptance but receiving none.
Those faces are long gone but the feelings remain, every new person I meet. I wonder, is that how they think of me? A punchline? The idea someone could accept me for who I am is unfathomable, so my defenses kick in. I judge before I get judged, this way they can’t hurt me, I won’t let it happen. Warped perception based on fallacies.
This constant worry I’ve come to realize is never based on the truth of the present but the pain of the past. Yeah, they did me wrong but that’s not today, not everyone is like that, some people actually care and I have to recognize that and accept that. The anxiety isn’t unfounded but it’s certainly not relative to everything situation today, I’m realizing this.
I gain peace of mind, enough to allow myself to accept friendship and love, something that’s been lacking for so long, something so vital, like vitamins for the soul. Learning, growing is what life is all about. A calmness over.
Never hold in your feelings, it will eat away at your soul, say how you feel and the weight will be lifted from your heart, don’t think, just speak, the words will flow exactly the way they’re supposed to be, Face the fear, fight the uncertainty and regardless of the outcome you can take comfort in knowing at least for the moment, you conquered one of your giants. Celebrate this one, the relief you get from speaking your mind. And we breathe…..
I’ve got some things going on and I just need to tell you how I feel. I don’t want your advice; I don’t need to be fixed; I just want you to listen. You can talk or choose to stay silent but first let me say piece. I wish I didn’t have all these intense feelings; I wish I was like everyone else; I hate being this way; I hate feeling weak but I am who I am. And some days I just need someone to talk to and I guess today it had to be you. I hope you can take some time out of your busy schedule and just let me talk for a minute; I won’t take up too much of your time. Thank you.
Well today I am supposed to hear back from Costco about starting the job and I am awaiting the result of the background ( I have no criminal record and have never failed a background check) I passed the drug test and they said they’d contact me this week about starting orientation; I was hoping to start as soon as possible so I could avoid working Thanksgiving. I am also just ready to leave my old job; I’ve pretty much stopped caring at this point; in a sense they broke me and I am just exhausted from being there. I thought of it as almost being in a prison; knowing you’re going to be released in a week and that’s the longest week of your whole sentence because you know you’re leaving and you are just staring at the calendar; obsessing about the days you can finally walk out and never come back; that’s exactly how I feel.
So I am at my most anxious when I am waiting for anything that requires urgency ( phone call, email text) and I always go through this little anxiety attack in my head and that tape loop; they won’t call; you won’t get the job; maybe your current job will say you aren’t a good worker etc; over and over and again. I’m just visibly anxious; my legs feel like they are shaking at 100 miles mph and I am just tapping my fingers in frustration. I hate this anxiety so much because I have tried every which way to calm myself and remind myself that more often than I do get a call back; the anxiousness persists. I figured I wanted to write about my anxiety as it was happened so someone might get an idea of the feelings I have during this heightened state of anxiety. Even when I send a simple text; I got through this sort of script in my head and I don’t calm down until the person texts me back or I give up and realize they aren’t going to talk to me. That is why I only like people who respond to messages promptly because that way I know they want to talk to me and don’t keep me waiting. I’m pretty I’m not the only one all this anxiety but it certainly feels like I’m alone with this most of the time. Well I am going to get something to eat and take a shower; maybe that will calm my nerves. And I won’t make another post about this until I hear back from Costco and start officially working there. Thank you so much for the support friends; I really need it on some days
I try to add writers to my social media; I like to be inspired by others. Today I saw a post where a recently added friend who is a writer shared a poem and I thought it was really beautiful so I thought I would post it here.
When I share, I truly pull every fiber from my being and write from there. Sounds stop. I walk into a tunnel of dreams as often as possible as an observer witnessing what has been. Sometimes though I still get a bit stuck flashing back and I get spliced. My history has been difficult, and I have to practice daily to relearn what I missed when safe wasn’t available. While in that place of reflection, I hear old headless voices. “Stop telling stories.” “Don’t you know if you would practice just one instrument you might be good at something?” “You aren’t funny.” “Stop singing.” “Stop pretending to be nice, because we know who you really are.” Over and over again, the berating of my being was my ‘normal.’
Well, here I am. I write stories, poems and prose. I love music and I wish I could have followed my dreams to be a jazz singer/musician as well as a music therapist. But for now, I’m content with touching the keyboard and rearranging the melodies as I hear them. Reminds me of T.S. Eliot’s words, “…music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all, but you are the music while the music lasts.” I think music has been my steadfast therapy next to nature’s unsurpassable kindness. Both see me for who I am and accept me too. The latter expands my ribs over my heart and I find myself closing my eyes to shelter that beautiful reprise of love. Wisdom has been hardwired from pain and the synapsis of my thought processes have been protected by a vivid imagination. I see tastes and feel spirits and hear voices where there are none. This is where I write from.
Thank you for being here and following along. The writer couples with the reader and we join each other in the most beautiful songs.
Carolyn Riker | Artist: Tom Bagshaw
Written as a facebook post
I hear some women say that men don’t have deep feelings or aren’t as emotional as women; men are less sensitive. I think that’s total bullshit. It’s not that men don’t have feelings; it’s that they are taught not to express emotions openly unless it’s anger; if a man is open with his feelings then he considered weak; so he represses all of those negative feelings; to keep up a front and appear tough even though he may be hurting inside. At times I wish wasn’t so open about my feelings and I could be tougher but I am who I am and I try to be proud of the fact I’m sensitive; I can cry in front of people and it’s ok. So it’s a pretty hurtful statement when people say men don’t have feelings. On one hand if we express our emotions openly including hurt and sadness; we are considered weak ( especially around other guys) but if we don’t talk about our feelings; we are deemed to be emotionaless; lacking sensitivity and compassion. Emotional unavailable they call it. Either way as men; we can’t win.
In my daily life I don’t feel valued; in fact I feel rejected. I can sense people don’t like me or see me as different. They see me as slower than them or less intelligent which isn’t true in any case. I can tell they looking at me because I don’t fit into what they see as normal ( whatever the hell that is) and so I have come to expect people to be rude or dismissive; if they weren’t I might collapse is shock because it is such a daily occurrence; one I have faced all my life ( And no I don’t think it is in my head) It’s not just people looking at me funny; it’s their tone of voice or the fact that they seem generally to avoid me; which leaves me feeling hopeless. So when someone comes along and treats me like a human being with value and worth of respect; I freeze because I’m not used it. I question it and wonder if the person is being sincere or not especially if I don’t know them very well. I feel like a hungry child who hasn’t food in days; all of a sudden I’m at an all you can eat buffet and I lapping up the food because I have been starving. I eat as much as I can because I know tomorrow I will be hungry again. And there have been times in my life when people have tried to get close ( those of the opposite sex in particular) and because I was used to be ignored; I had no idea how to handle attention or someone interested in getting to know me. Instead of slowly building the relationship/friendship; I went at it going 200 mph; driving the person away; leaving me alone and depressed. I wish it wasn’t this way because it keeps me making friends; dating and any other social interaction. I just wanted to feel loved just everyone else; we all deserve that. I do wonder what it is about me that sets me apart from others; that makes me worthy of disrespect or avoidance; I don’t have a clear answer but it hurts. People out there are cruel and I don’t trust them. I hope someday I can find people in my daily life that care ( outside of my family) because this loneliness is killing me and someday may be the end of me; although I hope not. All I know is that I will try my best to be kind despite other’s ruthlessness because I’m bigger than that.
Thanks for listening,
I have only been writing and sharing what I’ve written for a few months. I find myself constantly writing all these thoughts that come to my mind; often an endless stream of ideas that I try to write down as soon as they come ( that is not always possible). I’ve been through so much in life and had so many thoughts and feelings that I kept bottled up inside. Every time I felt hurt or rejected; I took those feelings internalized them; and never expressed them; either out loud or on paper. I never wrote about my brother’s death so I remained angry and bitter because I had no outlet. I couldn’t tell another human being what I’d been through because they couldn’t understand; so I held it in for almost 20 years; imploding on the inside. I look back and wonder that if I had been writing could I have handled those situations differently? For years, I felt completely alone and felt misunderstood; I thought I was weird for feeling the way I did. Whenever I told someone how I felt; I could tell they didn’t get what I was saying; whether it was friends, my family or therapists. I could never find a way of expressing my true feelings and having the other person understand; it was very frustrating. Writing has been the only way I can tell people the way I feel and for people to say I relate or thank for writing this; it means so much. I mean. for the first time in my life my feelings are validated and it’s because I have been writing. I don’t have carry this around anymore and I know I often repeat myself but my thoughts can be repetitive and for that I apologize. But I was thinking about situations in the past where I tried to start a relationship and I misread signals and the anxiety got the better of me; driving that person away. Could writing my feelings reduced my anxiety? Instead of seeking advice from people about this person and in turn her finding out how I felt; maybe I could have written about it and kept it to myself. It could have saved me a lot of heartache and fear. I also feel ( when appropriate) it’s important to share my writings with people in hopes that I can help someone who struggling like myself. If I had only known how important writing was; it could changed my life, but the important thing is I’m doing in now and I will continue to do so as long as can. Thanks for listening/reading
There’s so much going here but it’s unspoken; nothing is said; we don’t want to silence to be broken; I think we both like it this way; it’s a game that both play each and every everyday so I lay down a poem instead; just to get it out of my head and no one has said anything so it’s between us two and if they knew; I wouldn’t know what to do. Raised eyebrows, long looks from across the room; a sonic boom of unresolved feelings that remain inside; I look down and walk on by; but I can’t deny and I can’t lie; that this feels good; uplifts my mood. Maybe this all is my imagination and I got my signals crossed and I am lost in my own thoughts; I’ve been wrong before when I tried to make more out of nothing and got hurt in return; I know the burn of rejection all too well; I fell too fast and it didn’t last; it ended before it began and now I am as cautious as I can be. I won’t act on this but I just have one question: Why me?