क्या हुआ??

Even before this all began, I’ve dealt with a strange issue. I’m not really sure how I should feel about anything. Maybe it started back when I was depressed in middle school. My subconscious kept telling me that there were so many other people with worse lives, so I had no right to be depressed or feel that my emotions deserved any sort of special attention. So then I was ashamed of myself for being so stupid and self-centered, that I just felt more depressed…and the cycle continued.

So now here I am, dealing with this in a couple situations.

This drawn out divorce is bringing out terrible and ugly emotions from deep within me. I have not felt this bitter, angry, or depressed in…well I don’t even know how long…maybe since 9th grade?  Deep down, though, I feel as though I shouldn’t be having any of these emotions. I’m an adult, right? I’m 22, I have my own life, I have my schooling, etc. I should be a little sad, but then I should accept it and move on…right? Well, things aren’t going quite as planned. I sat at home during spring break and at one point just sat at the kitchen table with my head down, studying the grain in the wood, I suppose. Every negative thing that’s happened in the past month or so has either sent me into a rage or into a sobbing fit. I found out some news that should not have affected me at all. but instead I keep going over it again and again in my mind; in a way, analyzing what the logical emotion should be.

Maybe I should just accept that there is not logical emotion. Maybe I should just succumb to every emotion I have and just sob and sob until there are no more tears left to cry. Would that be therapeutic, or would I just be at the same place with raw and bloodshot eyes? Either way, I have to keep pushing on at school and through life…because while I’m going through a terrible time, the earth is still rotating. Professors don’t stop giving out assignments because students have hard lives. My dog still needs to be fed when I don’t feel like getting up in the morning.

Maybe it’s true that other people have it worse off than I do. But maybe I need to accept that it’s not some sort of competition where the winner gets to feel justified in their sadness. It’s alright if I’m angry and if I’m downtrodden right now, because this is my own situation and I’m entitled to feel whatever way…well, whatever way I feel. It is what it is, it will be what it will be and denying anything has done nothing for me but temporarily delay a greater emotional trauma.

I am sad.

I am mad.

I am afraid.

I am.

I was thinking the other day…well kind of about my failed relationships and all. Original!But the one thing that kind of dawned on me was this. In just about every one, I’ve ended up with some sort of new knowledge. From one I learned some Hindi, setting off my passion for the language. From the last one I learned some Arabic and a little about Palestinian culture. So even if the relationship itself doesn’t end up lasting, hey…at least I can still count to ten in Arabic!!

In other news, I still haven’t heard a peep from that one person. It’s been four weeks. The last time we talked was about a week before I broke up with his voicemail. Oh here’s what I’ve ESPECIALLY learned from that one. I can’t count on other people to care about my feelings and respect me. I have to COMMAND respect and care enough about my OWN feelings so that I don’t let others walk all over me. Sometimes this means finding out that people who I thought were my friends really aren’t. For the most part, though, I’ve presently surrounded myself with people who are true friends. Things are always getting better.

One of the great things about doing some study of psychology is that you can turn it around on yourself and analyze every little part of your own life. By “great” I mean “annoying and sometimes a little depressing.”

I’m sure that anyone reading this who has taken even the most basic psychology class has learned about the stages of grief. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

I was in the shower just yesterday when I came to the realization that I have gone through practically all of these, though not necessarily in order, through the slow and painful process of my parents’ divorce.  For a long time, I just tried to not pay attention to what was happening. All I wanted to do was concentrate on my schoolwork and act like everything was just fine.

I can’t think of any bargaining that I’ve done.

A few months ago, I started in with the anger. Anger at my father for the way he has been acting and taking his emotions out on everyone around him. Anger at both of my parents for not just ending it sooner. Anger that I’m in the middle of this, even though it has nothing to do with me. Even anger at the people who keep saying “it’s not your fault, it has nothing to do with you, don’t listen to them.” As if knowing that it’s not my fault is going to make me feel better. If it was my fault, I could possibly rationalize why all this was happening to me.

Then the anger slowly flowed away and transformed into a tangible depression. But like salt in coffee, the taste of the rage is not something that is easily forgotten or gotten rid of. It only adds a bite to the bitterness of the brew. At this stage, I am inconsolable. I am finally coming to the realization that this is the way it is, this is the way it is going to be. This is my life. This is my family. My father is not going to ever fully understand how and why I am hurting so much. And then I have ridiculous thoughts about how I should never even have been born. My parents should never have gotten married, and I should not be here. I even overheard him alluding to the fact that I was unplanned. Even though it was a brazen lie, hearing something like that being said by your own father is like being stabbed.

Eventually, I’ve had conversations with him. Not resolving any of my own issues, but perhaps coming to the realization that he will never have any role in said resolutions. I guess I’m sort of cutting my losses now. When he finally does leave, I guess we’ll at least be conversing on some sort of civil level. I’ve come to the acceptance that this is how it will be. I will never fully trust my father, and I probably won’t ever fully let my guard down. But I guess we can talk sometimes now.

Even this acceptance is no real comfort to me. I’ve managed to push it out of certain parts of my mind. I can still continue on with my life without being completely debilitated by grief, but when I’m sitting by myself sometimes…I do start to think. I look at the parts of my life and I see where it has affected me and I wonder if I can ever fix myself.

I sometimes wonder if I’m just like my mom, if I really am unable to love someone. What if I am really too picky. What if I missed my only chance to ever be married. Deep down inside, I’m not really that concerned. As much as it would be hard to be alone forever, part of me is starting to be convinced that I can’t be with anyone. So I watch all of my unsuccessful attempts quickly move on to better options. In fact, congratulations to them on escaping the black hole of my affections.