Pandora's Box
At my core I understand what goes through people's minds that make them want to commit suicide. Mostly because I've been there. The out of control spiral that just feels so dark like there isn't such a thing as light. There isn't such a thing as feeling OK. It's lies you tell yourself, somewhere in your head something is telling you lies.
I understand that feeling of just being intrinsically alone. I've always felt alone. I can be surrounded by people who love me and somewhere the logic of being loved makes sense, but I still constantly need proof and there's never enough proof. I never feel apart of anything, I feel displaced at the root of myself.
I suffer with depression, I've come to the conclusion that it's apart of me for some reason.
When I became a mother the depression fled from me. I no longer needed anyone else to love me because I belonged to this little being that was literally apart of me. It was me -- a little me in a physical form. It was love that I could hold and talk to, it was something that didn't need me because it was too lazy to do it for itself, but because I was helping it become something great. A grown person. I was investing in something that I saw growth in, I saw that potential (that I see in so many) the little seed that I knew in my soul would become a beautiful tree, strong and proud. And it was because something in me gave them something worthwhile.
I've never loved anyone else and seen that transformation. Normally in love you feel so helpless, loving and giving and investing and only get to watch self depreciation as time moves. You have to helplessly watch as parts break off and people self destruct. But here was my chance to make these children believe they were apart of something -- maybe they would fix the world in a way I couldn't.
Some days I feel like the Russian orphans that they studied and found out about the power of human touch and the complete dysfunction in your brain that happens when you aren't touched enough.
At some point in being even a mother -- the temporary fix goes away. Your children come to a point in life when they start taking the reigns. And that is beautiful, but it's twofold. Because you're given enough quiet moments to start letting out that girl, the broken one that you put away in a box up on a shelf. You put her there because she self destructs. She feels everything so deeply. She needs and wants and needs to be needed and wanted so passionately the hunger almost burns her up.
I liken myself to Pandora's Box. I can't open it or I will destroy myself. And it isn't just me, because I'm helpless some days to stop feeling things -- It feels like darkness just flows out of my mind -- it's those I love around me who are helpless to understand me as well. But I can't be angry at being misunderstood because I don't quite understand myself either, it's just frustrating to sit here and talk and I feel really like I'm yelling myself out into the world and no one is hearing me.
I feel ignored. I feel unloved. I feel completely pitiful to want and need and then someone says to me as an answer to my opening of my soul that I'm adorable.
And they don't mean it in a derogative way at all. But it feels like a pat on the head. lol When I need someone to grab me and love me so much it shocks me right out of the staircase that I'm sliding down.
But unless you've been in my pandora's box mind you wouldn't understand that I'm fishing. I'm hinting. I'm doing my best to try to tell you I need you without saying right out I need you and then being rejected.
And I feel a bit like poison. Like what I touch just withers and dies. How can you be a good mother and be poisonous? I don't know how to be good enough and I've tried.
The only thing that has kept me going so long in this life with these things spewing hatred towards myself in my head is the grace of God. And the words of affirmation I have to tell myself.
I understand that feeling of just being intrinsically alone. I've always felt alone. I can be surrounded by people who love me and somewhere the logic of being loved makes sense, but I still constantly need proof and there's never enough proof. I never feel apart of anything, I feel displaced at the root of myself.
I suffer with depression, I've come to the conclusion that it's apart of me for some reason.
When I became a mother the depression fled from me. I no longer needed anyone else to love me because I belonged to this little being that was literally apart of me. It was me -- a little me in a physical form. It was love that I could hold and talk to, it was something that didn't need me because it was too lazy to do it for itself, but because I was helping it become something great. A grown person. I was investing in something that I saw growth in, I saw that potential (that I see in so many) the little seed that I knew in my soul would become a beautiful tree, strong and proud. And it was because something in me gave them something worthwhile.
I've never loved anyone else and seen that transformation. Normally in love you feel so helpless, loving and giving and investing and only get to watch self depreciation as time moves. You have to helplessly watch as parts break off and people self destruct. But here was my chance to make these children believe they were apart of something -- maybe they would fix the world in a way I couldn't.
Some days I feel like the Russian orphans that they studied and found out about the power of human touch and the complete dysfunction in your brain that happens when you aren't touched enough.
At some point in being even a mother -- the temporary fix goes away. Your children come to a point in life when they start taking the reigns. And that is beautiful, but it's twofold. Because you're given enough quiet moments to start letting out that girl, the broken one that you put away in a box up on a shelf. You put her there because she self destructs. She feels everything so deeply. She needs and wants and needs to be needed and wanted so passionately the hunger almost burns her up.
I liken myself to Pandora's Box. I can't open it or I will destroy myself. And it isn't just me, because I'm helpless some days to stop feeling things -- It feels like darkness just flows out of my mind -- it's those I love around me who are helpless to understand me as well. But I can't be angry at being misunderstood because I don't quite understand myself either, it's just frustrating to sit here and talk and I feel really like I'm yelling myself out into the world and no one is hearing me.
I feel ignored. I feel unloved. I feel completely pitiful to want and need and then someone says to me as an answer to my opening of my soul that I'm adorable.
And they don't mean it in a derogative way at all. But it feels like a pat on the head. lol When I need someone to grab me and love me so much it shocks me right out of the staircase that I'm sliding down.
But unless you've been in my pandora's box mind you wouldn't understand that I'm fishing. I'm hinting. I'm doing my best to try to tell you I need you without saying right out I need you and then being rejected.
And I feel a bit like poison. Like what I touch just withers and dies. How can you be a good mother and be poisonous? I don't know how to be good enough and I've tried.
The only thing that has kept me going so long in this life with these things spewing hatred towards myself in my head is the grace of God. And the words of affirmation I have to tell myself.
Comments