Sunday, February 14, 2016

The Comfort of Escapism

My natural coping mechanism is to talk about everything and yet, recently, I haven't really wanted to talk about anything to anyone; in fact my greatest company of late is that of strangers, strangers don't want to know how you really feel, strangers don't care about your problems, strangers want a smile and a 'fine thank you, and you?' and that has been the greatest of comforts lately, however the problem with comfort is that it doesn't last for very's like crack, you constantly look for your next hit and then you become an addict and if you surround yourself with enough strangers you can escape your own life for as long as you deem necessary, which makes you feel good about yourself for a short while but doesn't actually fix anything.

What does fix things is dealing with the issues at hand but dealing with the issues at hand mean that you have to process our feelings and talk things out and find solutions to things, and that hurts and is painful and takes time.

I would normally talk to friends about it but when it is something so sensitive, it's impossible to start that conversation, a couple of times when I did raise it with friends I burst into tears and then brushed it off with some easy quips and lighthearted comments. There has only been two times that the conversation has been met well, once with a friend who is going through a dark patch also and commiserated with me in feeling isolated and shitty, and the other with a friend who just gets shit and understands and asked the right questions and didn't judge and gave the right responses, I can't explain what it is but she just gets "it".

Rowan has been incredibly supportive, kind, patient and loving and he understands what I'm going through and he also knows that I need to talk to others about it, however I've no idea how to broach or deal with the matter at hand. I basically need someone to walk up to me and tell me to talk and that they'll listen and not pass judgement, as I think right now the judgement or lack of understanding is what frightens me the most. The fear that my friends are too busy, won't understand, don't have time, or can't comprehend and therefore will try to fix things, instead of just listening and saying 'that's shitty'. More so, I'm afraid that they won't care and that kills me and makes me feel worse. I already feel alone and the idea of being rejected or misunderstood is enough to make me not want to bother trying.

I think one of the hardest things about growing older is that you and everyone around you get occupied with their own things and you find that have less and less time to worry about anyone other than the ones immediately around you and so people drift and grow apart, and you find it hard to really talk about the ongoing issues in your lives as you don't want to bother your friends with the shitty parts of life, especially when you only get to speak for short bursts, you want to gloss over the issues and focus on the fun and entertainment, so that your friends call you back next time. Life shouldn't be like that, life should be that you talk about everything, as your friends will want to talk about the good, the bad and the ugly but it isn't always so and the more it becomes like that, the more we lose the time to talk about what really upsets us and deal with the issues at hand with friends.

Randomly I have spoken to my family about it at length, having my family there has been a saving grace as they know what I'm like and allow me to discuss it exactly how I need to without asking questions because they feel they should.
My brother Jules said that it's best to take it day by day and to allow my inner self to lead how I act on the outside, which has allowed me to feel as though I should accept that I feel like this and not fight it anymore.
My brother Adie listened for hours and then said 'I alway judge life by Les Mis, it could always be worse you could spend 19 years in jail for stealing bread to feed your starving family', which as stupid as it is made me laugh, a lot.
My Mum meanwhile just listened and laughed at stupid things and told me how silly I am about everything, she also added silly titbits about my Dad or other stuff that is going on.
And my Dad, he just talked to me about rugby and for him to discuss anything at length on the phone is always a win (bloody Dads).

The best thing to come out of all of this is that having my family and Rowan in my life, I feel as though I can conquer anything and I will get through this, I just need to take it a day at a time and remember that I'm lucky to not be Jean Valjean, during the majority of Les Mis.

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