I am not okay
For years, maybe a lifetime, I've been the strong one, the one people can turn to and lean on when they're not strong enough. Last night, that changed. I fell apart. Suddenly, it was as if everything that I'd built walls up against, that I had tried to lock behind closed doors came crashing down around my head and all I could do was cry. As I write this, more than 12 hours later, I'm still crying.
The reality is that I am not okay. I haven't been okay, but I put on a really good show and nobody realizes just how broken I am. Sure, I've mentioned individual struggles but nobody, maybe not even myself, have put together the pieces of the puzzle that screams she's breaking apart at the seams.
I am not okay. So long as there was somebody who needed me, somewhere else I could divert my attention, the anger and pain that I held inside could be kept at bay. Nobody needed to know that I wasn't this super human being who could do it all. Everyone told me how strong I was and how they didn't know how I juggled as much as they think I do. Nobody knew the pressure that put upon me or how it made it that much harder to be weak or to be vulnerable.
To be vulnerable is to risk being hurt. I can't stand any more hurt. I am full up. I have years of hurt and pain bottled up inside of me and to add one more tiny bit of rejection to that would be too much. I've held onto my weight as a handy excuse. When someone that I've cared about, loved and have been interested in for years "rejected" me recently, my immediate thought was the weight. The reality is that has nothing to do with it, but it's a safe reasoning. It doesn't hurt so much. The truth is that the cause had nothing to do with me what so ever. It's easy though. I've used my weight as a safety blanket. I wrapped myself in it and used it as an excuse to not have to open myself up to what deep down, I am sure is rejection just waiting to happen.
You see, I've never felt good enough. I was never the pretty one or the popular one. I went through all of high school never being asked out. I was invisible. I married the first man who paid me any amount of attention. In fact, in 36 years, I've never been asked out. That's really kind of sad. Yet, it doesn't surprise me. Over the years, I've turned into everyone's best friend. I'm the girl that guys come to when they need to talk about their girlfriends because I'm a girl..yet, when anyone is available, they forget I'm a girl. I don't even know if that makes sense, but the reality is that it's been a safe place to be while I've shoved the hurt and pain of being invisible into the closet.
I don't want to be invisible, but I'm scared to say hey, look at me. What if I tell the man that I've been interested in for years the real truth of my feelings? That while I love being his friend, I've wanted so much more for years. I got brave once, a long time ago and told him that. He told me he wasn't interested..if memory serves it was due to the distance, but it was enough to make me afraid to ever approach the subject again. Instead, I reject myself for him. I tell myself that he'll only reject me again and that I'll never be good enough for him.
I pour so much of myself into everything that I do, that when someone close to me turns their back on it, I feel as if they're turning their back on me. I run another site..and I have "staff". Most of them are friends of mine and sometimes it hurts me when they make promises and don't follow through or are happy to promote other sites and yet never promote ours. I tried being brave and telling them but they just nod and say they understand but don't change the behavior and I take that as rejection and I lock it in the closet and tell myself that maybe my expectations are too high.
When I was growing up, there were certain people in my life who trained me to believe that everything was my fault and now, as an adult, that's my default mode. I've held friends while they've wept and yet apologized to everyone who tried to talk to me last night (which weren't many) for being the one falling apart.
The reality is that I'm not happy with my life. Six more difficult words to say out loud..or even just four. I'm not happy. I'm not happy and I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of lying to myself and of lying to those around me because it's not comfortable being the sad girl. Nobody wants to be around the sad girl. Nobody wants to know the real girl behind the mask. It's easier to not look. It's easier to pretend than be real. I'm always real..but I never show the full reality. People see a piece of me.
I know that the only person who can change my life is me. Deep down, somewhere, I know that people care about me and that I'm not this person that when I'm not in front of them or texting them that they magically forget about. I also know that I'm tired and that I'm not okay. I have a lot of things to deal with instead of shoving them back into the closet. I have a lot of decisions and choices to make.
I may take a break from here and from a lot of the internet. The internet is a double edged sword for me. There's something about it that keeps me tied down and yet in some ways, it's my connection with the outside world. Those few people who I do turn to are all there. They're not here. I would love to change that but I can't right now. However, I may need to just step back. Those same people know my phone number and could call me. Yes, it would be more work but if I can fly or drive halfway across the country to see them, maybe they could dial 10 numbers into a phone..or press my name in a contact list. Maybe I need to believe that I'm worth that much effort. Maybe I'm afraid to find out that I'm not. Too often it's me initiating contact and I'm scared to find out what happens if I don't. I may find that I really am completely alone in this world. I don't want to be alone.