Sunday, January 16, 2011

Tears Above the Bathwater

I can't sleep...

Tonight is yet another night when I feel too much to settle down. I'm an empath. I don't like to take that word out often because it always brings up images of Star Trek, and makes me seem like I'm trying to be cooler than I actually am, but at times like these, late at night when I'm experiencing others' pain, I can't ignore it. I don't watch the news because those stories come back to haunt me. At midnight, while the rest of the house sleeps, a baby is thrown in a washing machine (the last news story Senpai unfortunately told me), and I'm in the machine with it. The water washes over me in the dark. I tumble, tumble, tumble, and I can't breath. I only want the soft warmth of my mother's embrace, NOT THIS!!! Terror. Pure Terror. And, of course, I can't sleep. That poor, damn baby (get out of my head).

I have to close myself off from others' suffering or else it becomes too raw, too real. That makes me distant and hard. I'm too serious. I lost my sense of humor somewhere along the way; where did it go? I hate myself. I hate myself for feeling too much.

I suspect a reason why I'm so sensitive to everyone's pain is because I shut down my own pain. I injured my finger today. Though there was blood involved, and a raw nailbed, I couldn't say it hurt exactly. It just felt irritated. I also changed my insulin pump infusion set today, which involves jamming a thick needle in my butt. Always pleasant. And I'm an emotional rollercoaster of hurt, anger, and frustration due to the usual reasons. But I can't let any of it out. Painful accidents happen, whoops. The needle has to go in or I die. I have to swallow my feelings and move on, or else I wouldn't make it through the day/week/month. Keep going, don't break down now/later/ever. Just swallow the pain. Bury it deep. No wonder I feel sick to my stomach.

I took a bath to try to help change my mindset. Calm down, unwind, all that good stuff. It felt nice, but I'm still awake, fighting the same demons I was before. I know I need therapy. I don't know who I should see: masseuse, shrink, yogi, guru, priest? All of the above? Tears brimmed over my eyes in the tub. For one second I allowed myself to BE the emotional wreck that I am, not someone else, ME. I tried to go with it, let it all out while I had the chance, but the tears went away. The hurt, anger, and frustration were swallowed up again. The breakdown was once again postponed for another day. Whatever. I just hope beyond hope that now I'll sleep.



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