Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Feed Me, Seymour
Keith Urban has a song called "Tonight I Want To Cry". I feel like taking some creative license and changing it to Today.
Nothing necessarily happened really. I just feel over-wrought with emotion I guess. Something that has become fairly common-place as of late. The floodgates have been opened, and now that I have allowed myself to feel for the first time in eons, I am overly doing so to the point I can't control.
Maybe not everything is justified to other, but to me it is. After holing up in cynicism and blankness for so long, just knowing I am able to feel even the tiniest iota of anything is like pouring acid into a paper cut.
Sure to the average person who has adapted over years to these day to day occurrences, I am like a foreigner. Like Madison in Splash, learning it all as if it were new and vulnerable to it for the first time.
I keep finding myself subjected to things I hadn't felt before. Or to things perhaps I never knew I was able to feel before. Things I didn't realize would affect me, hurt me. And I feel like I am belittled slightly for it.
It's not fair really. To go from Super Bitch to Super Sensitive with no happy medium and no modicum of understanding from anyone else. To have no one even try to see things from your perspective. To try to see how it could be affecting you, even if they don't understand really, they don't even try.
You're just crazy, or unjustified in your emotions. But they are YOURS and they are valid. And you want to scream sometimes. And sometimes you DO. And sometimes you don't but are accused of it nonetheless and it upsets you and you long to be that callous uncaring person again because there wasn't that hurt there, that vulnerability to be subjected to.
I found myself this morning driving to work and completely lack-luster. The day after my birthday and sad. I just wanted to call my father and knew that I couldn't. To reach out to him and have him make me feel better and be made to remember I celebrated yet another year without him.
I spoke to a friend on my birthday who had recently lost her mother. She visits her grave every weekend, and this made me feel horrible. I felt like a bad daughter. Like a bad person. I haven't been to my dad's grave in so long. His cold stone forgotten and all I want is to go there, to throw myself down and apologize to him for abandoning him.
I feel bad I haven't done anything to make him proud. That nothing has changed since he passed away. I am still horribly in debt. I am essentially careerless at 31 years old. Losing my job in a week, but really all I have done is go from job to job. Inconsistently consistent.
I can't do anything right. I am a perpetual failure. I am afraid of driving away the love of my life. Afraid something about my fragility or imperfections will make him run, will take the one thing I finally have that made me minutely happy and turn my world upside down.
That even though he has known me, known who I was for years and loved me as such, that now he wants to change me. That now I won't be good enough. Now things will be different. And it scares the ever living shit out of me.
I have opened myself. I fell. Deeper than Alice through the rabbit hole. Into a new and awkward existence of myself and I have no idea how to get back to who I knew I was for so long. No idea how to be that strong and callous person I once was. Hard-nosed and un-wavering.
And all this emotion, all these feelings, I don't know what to do with. I am afraid will eat me alive. I feel them. I hear them chanting, calling me out.
"Feed me Seymour, feed me."