I’ve never written a post like this before, for numerous reasons. The first, and most significant, is that I have an aversion to feelings. You know, like, emotions.
One of the reasons I write is simply because I can’t emote on a normal, well-functioning level in real-life. I don’t like feeling things, and I detest others knowing that I feel things if/when that I do. Even writing that, and considering what I’m about to write, makes my insides squirm around all uncomfortable and whatnot.
I don’t remember if I’ve always been this way, or if it’s something I’ve adapted into over time. All I know is that when feelings start bubbling up, I freak. Happy, sad, hurt, nervous, excited… It doesn’t matter. My body just cannot compute. I drink. I get angry. I shut down. I turn off the lights and hide (I’ve literally done this, as though I can run away from my own mind). All I want is a distraction, anything to avoid dealing with what’s going on around me.
So, when emotional things surface, I don’t react well. Anything other than blissful indifference chars away at me. Throughout this past month, I’ve been forced to walk through flames, if you will.
Nearly three weeks ago, I said goodbye to the sweetest, most wonderful cat in the world. I got him when I was 15 years-old, and since that moment he had been the love of my life. It may sound silly to all you well-functioning humans, but that cat was my safe space. He didn’t judge me, and he was always there, even when no one else was. When I felt alone, I went to him and was reminded that I wasn’t–not really.
When you don’t have many people in your life who are stable, you learn to rely on yourself. He was the exception. I don’t think anyone has ever loved a cat as much as I loved him. He was there through all the traumatic, sad, happy, wonderful, and awful moments that made up the past 10 years.
We should have had more time, and I blame myself every day for the fact that we did not. It’s difficult to accept that you let down the one being who never let you down, you know? When I said goodbye to him, he took a piece of my soul with him. I rarely cry (books and movies excluded), but I’ve cried every single day since I lost him. What’s more, without him here, I have no one to cry on.
As I alluded before, I view feelings as a weakness. I know that sounds cliché. The rational part of my brain knows that’s stupid, but the active part won’t stop saying, “Yeah, but what if someone uses them against you? You can never take it back, once it’s out there. Once people know.”
I’ve started to realize that, emotionally speaking, I’m not the healthiest of humans. I’m trying to work on that. I’ve had a rough month. I’ve had to deal with some personal and professional setbacks, coupled with the fact that I lost my best friend, my emotional support system, and the only being who had never let me down.
So, here I am, baring my soul as much as I know how, hoping that in some twisted way, it will help me cope in a semi-normal, less destructive way.
Does this count as a display of emotional depth? Am I well-functioning yet?