I have feelings. I swear, I really do. But for some reason there is a disconnect between my feelings inside and my outward appearance/actions/words. This goes for good and bad feelings. I have no problem being honest I can SAY what I feel but its probably not going to match up with all of my nonverbal signals which usually makes people think I'm lying when I'm really just a robot. I'm not so sure where this disconnect came from. It wasn't always this way. I used to be able to express all kinds of feelings and emotions in my actions and behavior. But somewhere along the way (I'm guessing around year 19) I realized that emotions make you vulnerable and easily manipulated. I still believe this, but sometimes I do miss FEELING. The only person who has made me feel since then is now...away...and I don't just miss him, I miss the feelings I was suddenly allowed to have. I may have cried more in those 14 months than I had in the past 5 years but it felt good to experience what was going on inside my body...
Allow me to clarify: Sometimes I feel...something.... this something isn't fleeting or caused by any specific event, it just IS and it is my displeasure to simply deal with it. I'm not sure what it is. It is a tightness, and anxiety building up in my chest. An all encompassing ickiness that I can not describe, control, release or suffocate further. Sometimes I think I must need to cry...so I try but that doesn't work. So I think that maybe I need to laugh...after doing that I still haven't found relief. Then I think that maybe I'm angry about something but I can't think of what it is that I should be angry at and so I have nowhere to direct my anger so any attempt at anger doesn't yield satisfaction. Now, usually I eventually I fizzle out or get distracted enough to forget but it always comes back...However this time it is the worst it has ever been. I feel like an explosive set to blow as soon as the fuse it lit but unfortunately I have no idea where the flame is going to come from. If I knew what would release this pressure I think I'd pull a bomb squad move on myself and set the dang thing off in a contained and safe environment in order to prevent any civilian casualties. But no, here I sit at 2AM (did I mention that this feeling makes relaxation and therefore comfort impossible making sleep impossible?) searching for something to either set me off or diffuse me entirely. I'd take a lobotomy or open heart surgery at this point. I pulled out my box of letters and cards and earrings and a dried flower hoping that a flood of memories might help, but it didn't. I've tried several movies of the chick flick variety to no avail. I have looked at EVERY picture I have, and reread every letter. I'm out of ideas and my insides absolutely refuse to give up their secrets. I can feel it, I know its there, I can even make out the carvings on the outside of the case which holds this deadly bomb...But the carvings are written in some symbolic language that just feels like jibberish to me. So this story has no ending, because now, at the end of this blog...
I still don't feel better and that secret code still is not broken.
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