Insecurities

I've had one of these weekends you sometimes hear mention of, you know the kind that alters your life irrevocably. It started by simply answering an email...

I've never really thought much about it before, I mean email come and go, the content changes but do they really affect you? You receive a joke and you laugh but after 5mins has passed you just continue as per normal. You receive an email telling you that your friend has died in some accident, it has a far greater impact but when the dust settles you slid back into normal life. What am I getting at I hear you ask (well ok no not you, just my mind asking myself)?

I've had the pleasure of meeting someone rather special, though it happened over the internet it still happened and there is few other ways of bridging the international border gap. We spent a good many hours talking, though truth be told I did most of it. A lot of rambling really, which felt good. I've not spoken to anyone like that in a long time. The last time I did, things ended badly...

I felt alive, like I could do anything. A truly invigorating feeling, but after a mere 20 odd hours I feel things slipping. Right now I feel so very alone, I am filled with doubt, feeling like it had all just been a dream. At the drop of a pin I feel like I'd just wake up and be back in my own head. Filled with my normal thoughts, filled with disgust, self loathing, powerless.

I keep looking at my phone expecting someone to call, I stare at my pc screen hoping for a contact to come online. Someone to talk to, but I'd lie if I said that that it is all I want. I'm hoping, wishing for so much more, but after yet another stretch of silence, no change in the pixels on the screen, I realise I am alone. Self imposed, years of cutting ties, of being less than a blip on anyone's radar. Was this what I wanted? I don't know, I think at times it was and yet here I am and I can't fathom why I could possibly have wished for it...

A weekend of honesty, of sharing, of raw emotions and afterward I feel little different. I have taken some advice to heart, rather odd as it seems but it just made sense then and still do now. I've stopped resenting my family, I've not allowed myself to think badly of them for a day. I've gone a day of being nice, of being more open than I'd usually be and the scary thing is that I made it. I didn't feel like yelling at anyone of them. Tomorrow brings new challenges but I believe I can do this again.

I don't know how to word it, but though somethings seem better others are have slipped further back...

How is it that the little things are the ones that fills the proverbial bucket?

I'm normally a pretty docile guy, it takes quite a bit to get my blood boiling but it takes a whole lot more before I start to react. Sometimes I think it is one of my worst qualities, I don't own my feelings. I bottle and label them, store them on shelves and generally we don't bother each other. But I find myself smashing the bottles more and more frequently...

I'll have a chat with a family member and they will say or do something silly but then I just explode, say the wrong things in the wrong tones. Playing a silly online game and dying as a result from trying to help others and feeling like they had slighted me somehow. Yet when something big happens I just turn up the volume of whatever song I'm listening to and life goes on...

I guess my mind is telling me to confront these emotions instead of disregarding them, but it is difficult after having spent so many years set in my ways.

Little things and big consequences, how is this a fair match to each other?

I constantly find myself thinking about it, am I happy?  Am I truly happy with how my life has turned out, do I even find happiness in the small things that occur on a daily basic? Sadly it seems that the XMAS season has returned and my thoughts turn quite negative.

I AM not a happy person, I honestly can't remember a day or even a moment of pure joy. I've spent the years creating a facade, behind the facade I had spent even longer to build walls. During the year it is quite easy to forget, to just be but it seems that the holiday times marks the passage of time and I allow myself to peek up at those walls. Marvelling at each new stone added, hating myself more for it.

I spend my day time hours working, very little admittedly. During these hours I'm the most cheerful person you will ever meet, I am helpful, usually a smile on my face, always eager to please others. But now I sit and think back to what has transpired in the last 12 months. I've lost one friend to the marvels of another country, another was taken too early from the world, another I alienated like so many others... 

Happiness, does it really exist?