One of the primary relationships in my life is a tenuous one. I don’t write about it here out of respect – for offending, saying the wrong thing, being disrespectful and mostly to avoid stirring up drama. Not that this person reads my blog.
They don’t even know it exists.
Which is quite appropriate since I feel they don’t recognize or acknowledge most of what makes me the person I am. The challenges I’ve overcome, the growth spurts, the self-awareness and general pleasure I’ve built into my life. My relationships, especially the one with my fiance, and the fact that I choose to live in southern California, where I can ride a bike along the beach or hike a trail or walk the beach.
Randomly, the miscommunication will come to a peak in an explosive phone call – where I’m left depleted and exhausted, continuing the feel that I am not heard and worst of all, that my reaction has only confirmed their suspicions… that I’m unhappy or something is terminally wrong in my life.
I know I’m being vague. Since I was 17, I’ve felt it useless to share the truth of these stories. It feels so pointless. “Nothing I say matters” I think, and so I don’t say anything. But that burying of feelings, the grief, the struggle… it shuts a person down. And I’ve work so hard to unpack my own baggage the past two years that it’s even more upsetting when I’m back in square one this week — screaming my feelings, crying hysterically, shouldering the guilt of my actions, and trying to process my rage.
The emotions sent me to bed for a 2 hr nap today, which helped. I see my therapist tomorrow. And these yellow roses from a supportive friend brought me back to my awesome life each time I passed them. Regardless of how this relationship develops, I know I am blessed. Tender, emotional, but blessed.