feelings

All posts tagged feelings

from me to you

Published March 31, 2013 by veryjaneeyre

The sacrifice is never knowing
why I never walked away,
why I play myself this way,
and now I see, you’re testing me;
pushe
s me away.
Pushing Me Away, Linkin Park

Ever wonder how many times you have to ignore someone before they get the hint and just leave you alone? Well, if the person you’re ignoring is me, it might take a while before I decide to accept things at face value. And even then, it’s questionable.

You see, I have this rather ridiculous notion in my head that even if I’m being treated like shit by a “friend”, I’m the bad friend for walking away from the mistreatment. Or worse, I’m afraid of angering the other person by pointing out their actions.

How fucked up is that? I don’t want to upset the person who is upsetting/hurting me.

I hate burning bridges but if you get me worked up enough, I’ll light the fucking match with a smile…and sob as the flames consume everything I once cherished.

You were the one to stop trying, to stop communicating, and I’m the one who is finally letting go of something that no longer exists: our friendship.

You were right; you do suck.

getting this out of my head

Published March 24, 2013 by veryjaneeyre

Why do I ask questions I already know the answer to?

Is it to validate myself?

Is it to make the other person feel guilty, if they are capable of feeling such?

Or is it simply to confirm that I already know what I know?

In the end, whatever the cause, I end up being the one hurt…regardless if I get an answer or not.

And lately, it’s been not.

it’s my (not) party and i’ll cry if i want to

Published March 14, 2013 by veryjaneeyre

Under the water you scream so loud,
but the silence surrounds you.
-Blue Ocean Floor,
Justin Timberlake

As usual, my brain is at odds with reality.

I turned 32 yesterday. 32. You’d think by now I’d have learned that at most, my birthday is pleasant.

Pleasant, as in, not horrible…like my 16th birthday where my algebra teacher basically called me a moron in front of the entire class without asking for the context of my response, like my almost 22nd or 23rd birthday when my cat swallowed a needle and I had to wait days to see if he would live (he did, thankfully). Pleasant…like my surprise 30th birthday party…which turned out to be more of a surprise for the guests when I answered the door and greeted them.

And while I told myself I didn’t expect anything, that was a big fat lie. My brain wanted all 3 people to come through on their gift (it gave me such a pretty picture of what it could look like ) and in the end, I struck out.

I felt so damn hollow (still do), and it certainly didn’t help that I didn’t see the one person I can count on. Soon, I hope.

In the mean time, I’ll be looking for my brain’s off switch.

nothing feels right

Published September 11, 2012 by veryjaneeyre

Help me if you can, I’m feeling down,
and I do appreciate you being ’round.

-Help!, The Beatles

I’ve been stuck in this awful bout of depression.

I wish I knew its direct cause. The nearest I can figure, I’m coming down from the high of the culmination of 2 concerts and a big writing project. Whatever the cause, I need to shake it.

I was talking with someone the other day and was advised to let myself wallow.

Here’s the problem with doing exactly that- once I dig that hole, it’s nearly impossible to climb back out.

It leads me to doing stupid things, thinking that I’m being helpful when I’m doing the exact opposite. Or wandering into the angst tag and sobbing over character death fic. (That second one was an accident; I cry over character death fic on a good day.)

All the emotional upheaval is making me physically sick too.

I feel like I should step away from the fic, but how do I do that when it’s my main distraction from this craziness?

under the magnifying glass

Published March 22, 2012 by veryjaneeyre

Do, do you got a first-aid kit handy?
Do, do you know how to patch up a wound? Tell me….
-Damaged,
Danity Kane

I may have left high school behind long ago, but it, apparently, has not left me.

  • I’m still the girl who’s too weird to hang out with the cool crowd, let alone be accepted or welcomed by it.
  • I’m still the girl who tries her hardest to be helpful so she’s not forgotten.
  • I’m still the girl who trusts too much or not at all.
  • I’m still the girl who’s broken beyond belief in ways she has yet to comprehend.
  • I’m still the girl who won’t let anyone get too close for fear that they may not like what they find.

This might be too close. Can’t lose what friends I don’t have,  right?

a resolution list of sorts

Published January 1, 2012 by veryjaneeyre

What’s going to be different this year?
-Plinky.com’s Prompt of the Day for 1/1

There’s so many things I’d like to be different in 2012. Let’s just stick with the things I can control, shall we?

I’m going to attempt to stop jumping to conclusions. It’ll save me from a lot of drama, as I invent most of it for myself. Short of this actually happening, I’ll at least make a valiant attempt to stop voicing these jumped to conclusions, aloud.

I’m going to be happy with what I have, want less. Hopefully complain less, although I’m not going to hold my breath on that one. I will attempt to stop sarcasm from being my default tone.

I’d love to say that I’m going to stop being afraid of what I feel, being afraid to acknowledge/voice it, but instead I’m going to say that I going to stop hating myself for loving a man who, on occasion, struts like a proud peacock. Yes, this man will never return my feelings (I can only assume as I’ve never breathed a word about this specific feeling to him), but love isn’t a bad thing. Right?

Alright, I think that’s enough. Baby steps.

words are sometimes too much and not enough

Published November 29, 2011 by veryjaneeyre

Don’t wish, don’t start;
wishing only wounds the heart.

-I’m Not That Girl, Idina Menzel (Wicked Soundtrack)

I don’t handle bad news well.

Sometimes- ok, most times- I don’t handle it at all. I shut down, go numb. It’s my defense mechanism. I did that when my mother called me at work to say that we’d be taking my dad off of life support, I did that when I found out a close friend died this summer, and I did it again yesterday after hearing some things that I still haven’t fully processed.

But before shutting down, I may have temporarily gone postal and flipped out on someone who just took it in stride. I know that I didn’t plan on saying what I did, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t mean what I said. I meant every word.

It was a bit unnerving to hear it all, for a second time. At one point, I swung my head around to visually confirm something with the person I flipped out on, and found him watching me. As if he was waiting for me to react again. He is probably the only one who got a true read on what I was feeling. And that was accidental.

As it was, the giver of the bad news shifted his glance to me a few times and held it there, like he was trying to read me. My expression never changed the entire time he spoke; of that, I am certain. I won’t even pretend to think that he was worried about my reaction.

The whole situation reminded me of a time where he was the one who watched over me after my mother made that awful phone call to me six years ago. He knew before I did that we’d be terminating my dad’s life support. I only found out about this when she told me later that day, on the way to the hospital.

You see, it turns out my mother made two phone calls that day. I was the second one. She called and spoke with him first because she wasn’t sure what I’d do when she called me and told me what we’d be doing. She wanted to be called if I fell apart and became an emotional, inconsolable mess.

I never did thank him for what he did for us, but I think about that moment every so often, wanting to acknowledge it. It’s never the right time. That ship has probably sailed around the globe several times over by now.

I want to thank the person who was looking out for me yesterday. (You know who you are.) You didn’t have to tell me what you did, so appreciate that you did so.