Feelings

i'm sorry.

for being all over the place. for being a know-it-all who doesn't actually understand. for being a selfish, self-obsessed, self-seeking ego-maniac. for being an enigmatic hot/cold question mark. for being a brick wall.

i feel like a big ball of feelings wrapped in tin foil - insulated from the world.

as i once again find myself at the brink of learning what it means to invest oneself into feelings and emotions i concede that truly i know not much at all when it comes to controlling my emotions to be at what is a supposed 'healthy' level. I am either zero or hero. zilch or 110 percent. choosing either to have my feet shackled to an iron ball or jump off a plane with no chute. i find myself hopelessly oscillating between.

i remember a time however when i didn't 'know better'. when i cared for whom i called family and friend and could, would, tear at the mere thought of losing any of either. when it was all genuine. real. innocent. emotion. when i really did care.

and is it true that no longer do? is this what 'growing up' does to you? is this what 'maturity' does to you? is this what common sense, masquerading as 'being wise', does to you? rational, logical thought, being absolute, always trumping irrational, illogical emotion? supposedly so that you'd be 'better off' i suppose. for your own good. own good? but is it really about having it good or being real? increasingly i find with much emptiness that i have subconsciously turned away from the latter to chase a false sense of the former.

that i have identified so deeply with the pain that i am now desensitised to allowing emotion whatsoever. is it true that through the grief and the wounds i chose to give up on humanity altogether? that at the same time i turned away from facing unbearable pain i condemned also the capacity to truly care?

the feelings that once consumed me have become so foreign. at least, outwardly.

so now it is either not there, or just plain awkward to other people.

but here's the first step to being real. This. right here. i know my usual expressions end up being woefully (and frustratingly) cryptic. but here and now i shall try to be honest. at least. this is what i really think. here i am realising that i don't know the answer. i am conceding that i'm pretty hopeless at this stuff. I am frustrated. I am somewhat confused. and, at the end of the day, i concede that i'm not all that good. at least not as good as i think i am or want to be.

and while i find it easier to share the deepest darkest with my Creator, i realise now that i am not alone. and that in my inward outpouring of raw emotion i do nothing to express them to anyone else or allow anyone in. that my hyperactive thought life serves to further isolate myself from the world rather than include. which frustrates me even more when i feel no one else understands (and when they really don't because they really can't).

frustrating for others who care and want to care, frustrating for me when i do care wholeheartedly (but those i do care for don't get that i do).

where to from here then? again, to be honest, i don't actually know. nothing definitive, at least. i'm guessing though it has to do with starting to be honest with myself.

and here and now i'll say, i want to try.

try to remember to be real. and comfortable in my own skin. to truly care, truly feel, truly love.

to realise that in my self abandonment to overcome the pain i accidentally condemned also my capacity to love altogether.and i'm not going to put on this farce image of all things good though i do believe i have been forgiven, and believe that His grace is truly enough for me.

I'd like to be real.

because with grace enough there is nothing to hide.