“I don’t understand why you (do this) or (say that) or (feel this) . . .
I guess it must be something i did. . . ”
Um. whoa. I love that everything about me is so terrible that mother has to take credit and apologize for who I am.
This has become who we are. That and the whole “no one is my mom” thing.
Before, my gram, mom and I interacted as a single dysfunctional unit.
There is less noise, less conflict now,
but a lot more depressive moaning from all sides and reasons for me to hate myself.
So, as if I don’t feel lame enough, I have to admit I need people. Which as soon as I do . . .
I don’t ask for much, but when I do it isn’t loud. And I don’t beg.
And I almost instantly feel ashamed of my existence.
After which I will politely apologize, maybe ramble to try to fix everything, feel worse and then remove myself from a given situation. I’ve given up lots of relationships this way. I just don’t know what else to do when people turn into walls and I feel like an asshole for trying.
So, hi planet, I’m sorry I take up space on you.
I will try to be less up in your grill.
I spent years trying to undo the invisibility spell that I set on myself.
And we all know, spells can’t be undone.
So i tried new ones that would make me appear as a competent social being.
They worked, but I’m still me. There’s no convincing or explaining how difficult it is to have once been so open and free on the inside, but paralyzed on the outside–
and to now be the opposite.
A few of you remember me back when remnants of the solitary ice queen reigned.
Was I better off then?
I miss being happy as an entirely unevolved being.
I still felt ashamed and embarrassed, but at least I didn’t put myself out into the world first.
I choose the unshared shame.