The hardest thing for me to learn sometimes is how to communicate with people. I can sit down at this computer or in front of a piece of paper. I can take a pen out and feel safe stating how I feel without hesitation about the message that I am about to put out there in the world. I can take my time like I do when I write a blog or a poem. Or I can just allow myself to move freely when I the mood hits me to do one of my doodles. I can see clearly in my head what I want to say, what I want to portray, what I want to give to the world. It's just not so easy for me to sit down in front of a person and truly get my point across. I have a tendency to think too much about what that person in front of me is going to think. Is what I am about to say going to hurt their feelings? What is their reaction to me going to be once I've released these words into the ether? As an adult, I understand that my feelings, my views, my actions (or reactions) are just as much of a factor as the person sitting in front of me. I write two different ways, draw in two different ways. I am more sensitive when I know that I'm putting a blog up or when I put a doodle out there for people to dissect. And then I am brutally honest if I know that these words, those lines will never go beyond these hands. Sometimes I don't always find the balance. Sometimes I write an entire blog and erase the whole thing because when I go back to read it, it feels too real for me to allow beyond this screen. And other times it is the only way I know how to tell someone how I feel. Honestly communication face to face is not my strong suit. I can own that.
For as practical as I am and as standoffish as I can be, I am an emotional person. This week has been trying because of, well, life. There have been choices I've had to make and some reactions I've had to keep in check because what was presented to me. I figure out a lot of stuff as I go but I always want to have an idea of what I am dealing with. I want to know the problems that might occur because this happened. I want to be able to sit down and talk about it but I'm not always the greatest at talking about something in the moment. I need time, time to digest what words just fell into my ears. I need time to truly understand how I feel about something before I can tell you. I react with emotion be it anger or sadness or joy. And there are times that those reactions make my head spin because they become so loud. They become so loud I can't hear in my head how it is I truly feel about something. That's why I've always kept a journal or found solace in some form of art. It has been a way to clear out the loudness and get down to why something made me feel so angry, so sad. I can't tell you in that moment why I am angry. I just am and I need to figure out a way of release on my own before I give it to you to understand yourself. I shut down when something becomes too much. It's not because I am afraid of exploding but because I know what happens if I allow myself to explode. I've never liked that part of myself, this rage that boils at times. I've worked so very hard on myself to be able to reel it in. I understand that those explosions solve nothing except more hurt feelings. I hold back because when I look at that person in front of me, whether I like them or not, what I see is myself in their shoes. I am truly an empathetic person. It drives me crazy sometimes which is why I shut down, why I pull away. Sometimes I don't know how to separate my feelings from theirs.
We have these expectations that hang around our necks given to us by so much around us. We live our lives always trying to live up to them because we are taught that is what we're supposed to do. I expect so many great things out of myself. The idea of me failing makes me react so emotionally. When my feelings are hurt, I don't know how to communicate that because I expect myself to brush it off quickly and move on. I expect myself to be stronger than something wicked someone said to me even though I know I should tell that person the hurt they caused. At the end of that conversation, I will end up apologizing and it's insane. As I've gotten older, I have gotten better but there is so much more in my journey. I understand more every day how my own insecurities manifest in the faces that look back at me. My husband and I don't really fight. There are a lot of different reasons for that. I don't like confrontation. I don't know how to do it without either seeing full on red or caving entirely. There is no in between. Most of the time we see eye to eye. He doesn't like a lot of fuss. I prefer to keep it nice and calm. We don't always agree. Our minds work differently. He can sit down with anyone and speak his peace when he has an issue. And me? I have to think about it for a minute. This week was one of those weeks that this difference was apparent. I have suffered with anxiety most of my life which makes some situations hard to deal with in a normal way. That's not the correct terminology but for this purpose I will go with it. When something happens, I think of worst case scenarios. I have to go through every bad thing that will probably never happen for me to come to the conclusion I am just overthinking it. And when I try to explain this mindset to this beautiful man whose mind functions in a different manor? I don't always explain it right. It's just the way this brain works out what I see around me, good or bad. I understand that the amount of pressure I put on myself to say the right words is, at times, debilitating.
This is how I figure it out, sitting down and allowing my fingers to fly across this keyboard. While I hold some thoughts back, all of these words come from this place within me that are able to shush the loudness that life causes. I wish I could just tell you simply how it is I feel but that has never been a thing for me. I can't sit down with someone over a cup of coffee and be completely honest because I know what is expected out of me. I am the one who listens and who takes care and offers a shoulder for the world to cry on. I am the one who thinks about the back stories and the options and the effects that every action is going to cause. I have always felt that my feelings, my wants, my desires have been something that I should deal with on my own. If I am scared of something, it is for me to find the courage on my own. If I am happy, I am terrified to talk about it because it may quickly be taken away. If I am angry, so many times in my life I have been scolded for feeling that way in the first place. So, I learned my greatest companion were words written on a piece of paper, lines drawn together that would not judge me for just being me whatever version that was at the time. Today I sit down and write these words not because I am trying to tell you anything. If I am being honest, writing a blog has been a challenge because I know the point is for people to read my work but I don't want to be like other writers and feed anyone who is reading this bullshit. What I write is honest and vulnerable. I never want it to become something diluted just to gain something undeserved. Life to me has always been this strange struggle of what I keep to myself and what I give to the world. Most the time this is the only place I can truly give the world anything. It's not because I don't feel it when I sit across from someone but because I feel too much of that someone when they sit across from me. Words fill my lines. I just don't always know how to say them. Sometimes it is that simple.