When the Tears Won’t Flow and the Words Won’t Come

I’ve experienced some pretty gnarly events in my lifetime. Some of the ones I would even have courage to share online would be the ex-boyfriend who tried to strangle me one New Years Eve because I said I didn’t love him. Another would be another ex-boyfriend who stalked me by calling and hanging up multiple times a day, and then would drive by my house to see if I was home and to see who I was with. A lot of these situations have hardened me. I’ve developed some pretty strong walls, I’ve learned to live rather emotionless at times because it was so much easier than feeling scared or anxious or frightened or sad or hurt, and at this point in my life it’s pretty frustrating. Especially since I've learned that life is too short to live in a fog of nothingness. I'd rather hurt than be numb.

The main problem is that whenever I am upset about something the feelings bottle themselves up. I try ever so hard to cry, to scream, to get angry and throw things … but none of it happens. The tears dry up, the emotions get swallowed down even more and I feel even worse. The walls go up and it’s becomes hard to decipher what the feeling/emotion is. It gets even harder to try and talk to someone about it. There have been many a times that I’ve gone to see a therapist or college counselor and I spent a majority of the time sitting there not saying anything much. The words just get caught in my throat, in my stomach and when I try to force them out they freeze. Then my brain goes blank and I can’t tell you why I’m upset, much less what’s going on in my head.

It’s always been so much easier to write it out, however, even trying to get them down on paper is hard lately. I think it comes back to me being hard on myself. I get angry or frustrated or sad by my current new situation, and then I feel guilty and selfish for feeling that way and I try my hardest to swallow it down. Not the best way to deal with it, I know.

Last night was one of those nights. I sat there feeling horribly down, and angry and I couldn’t tell my fiancé why. I felt the walls go up and I couldn’t stand being near anyone. So I slept out on the couch with the cats for a good majority of the night until I could relax a bit and crawl back into bed. I still couldn’t quite get it out this morning. I still can’t fully pick it apart. But I do know that one thing that has pushed me into this funk is that I just feel lost.

I don’t feel like I am who I used to be. I most definitely don’t live the life that I used to, but I don’t get the opportunity to be who I used to be either. I left my sister and my friends all behind. I work from home and I can’t seem to find anyone that I feel I can be myself around. It’s not that I feel that I’m being fake but, more I feel like I can’t be me. I don’t even know if I’m making sense, but this is my effort at trying.

I miss having a beer and watching a game with my guy friends. I miss having saki and sushi after work with my girl friends. I miss watching Paula Deen with my sister. I miss going to the bar or going to a party and socializing with people who enjoy drinking and socializing. I miss being able to have a dinner with people who will eat their food and not whine or throw fits. I miss joking around and I miss being able to be sarcastic around people. I feel pretty isolated here, and I don’t quite know how or where to go to try and feel comfortable again. It never occurred to me before that part of my anger and frustration was because of this.

I’ve tried talking about this with my fiancé once before. He suggested girls night out, except the girls that I know up here wouldn’t have the girls night out I’d imagine. The girls I know are either far wilder than I or far too conservative. I really hated living in Southern California, but I really loved the friends that I had there. I feel like I can be myself with my fiancé, but we don’t get much of a chance to have time to ourselves lately, especially with Jane only wanting two of the three boys visiting. The night he proposed to me was our first night out alone in a long time.

I kind of come down hard on myself about this. I remind myself all the time that “This is the choice you made, deal with it.” But I know that’s most definitely not the way to deal with it either. It goes back to trying to learn to balance things I guess (Struggling To Merge My Two Lives).

I know that this is just a funk that I’ll probably hit from time to time. But does it ever suck to hit it, and not be able to talk about it out loud. I look forward to being able to have a fun night again soon.