Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Almost Sunrise Eyes

I didn't make it to sleep until almost sunrise...
eyes never took their break
too heavy to lift
to sore to shut

My talk with C yesterday really had me thinking... I actually think she and I can get each other to cut the BS faster than any other friendship can. I got her to dig under her apathetic exterior and pinpoint the truly intense fear she was running from. And she was able put words to my previously unexplainable anguish of trying to be a part of my family here and simulatenously wanting to sprint away from them.
She's good at calling my game. If I do not leave here soon, I probably won't leave at all... And if I don't leave, I doubt I will find the drive nor will I trust myself or anyone else enough to get my crazy ass back into therapy. And all this intangible stuff I'm hoarding inside won't get looked at, and self-destructive cycles will continue to make permanent cracks in what is left of my presentably functional life.

"It breaks my heart to say this, but its honest friend; if you don't move, you won't make it. Maybe not this month, or next, or even this year... but it will get you."

She's not trying to make me feel hopeless. She hasn't given up on me, so don't think either.
She's trying to motivate me like Timmy could.
By using the kind of lines that, once said, can only be followed by a longer silence just to try and sop up some of the abundant truth that just spilled out everywhere.
Blunt reality.

...and if I remove all the BS that I've smeared over my awareness detector, shes probably right. As much as I would like to think that Superhuman Me can somehow get the reality check I've been needing and pull myself out; that's bogus. I floated somewhere above reality for too long, and now in order to make actual strides forward, going back to a team is my only option. This may make it seem like things are out of control behavior-wise for me... They aren't. I'm sure a dietary bum-kicking is needed; but I am referring mostly to the power of those darned emotions I seem to underestimate.
I came home last fall trying to help my family with all the little dramas at home. This quickly turned to being the "oldest and strongest" when we were hit with an even bigger loss, and then with the horrible truth that came out the month after. The whole time I thought that my only motive was to continue being the All-Star-Caretaker that I am; but C pointed to another I'd never seen.
Not only have I stuck around here to help "save" people that probably don't need me to, but I was testing, once again, to see if I could find myself the sense of family I have been missing. If my mom could figure out how to support me this time home, if I could belong. If I could be working towards independence and be a child.
I don't know why the repetitive head beating is unsuccessful at knocking the fact that I cannot go back and somehow magically retrieve my lost childhood and parents into me Whether is was someones fault or not, I missed out on being a kid and having a parent to look to for support. This isn't good or bad or wrong etc.. etc..
But, it is this hurt that C knows will 'get me' if I don't put myself in an environment where I can find peace and acceptance with it soon. I need to stop waiting for something to show up that can't. I need to get lonely, sad, angry and whatever else, and move on. The alternative being that I will keep pretending it doesn't influence me and addiction will continue to run my show... through food, OCD, substances, some new method, or anger that makes you hit walls.. (stupid wall..)
and like C said,
eventually,
one of those will win.