Anger

So Grant tells me I should "check in" more often. Not with him. With myself. He feels that I don't "feel" enough. I should be able to name my emotion at any moment. No numbness. I'm always numb.

Last night I tried it. I checked in. I was doing dishes. I decided I felt a little uneasy about my upcoming trip to my parents' house. This led me to wonder, "Why am I uneasy?" All of a sudden I am sobbing uncontrollably. I realized I was (and still am) quite angry with my mother. It is like some weird cliche: all of my life's problems can be blamed on my mother. Ok, so not all of them, but a few of the big ones can be.

It all goes back to the night I told her about the sexual abuse I suffered as a child. I was still a child, and I didn't understand my emotions. All I knew was fear. I had a bag packed in case they wanted to send me to foster care. When I told her, she seemed angry. She marched me out to my father, snapped off the television and said, "Tell him what you just told me." All my dad said was, "You better not be lying." It felt more like I was telling them I'd done something bad. That it was my fault.

Then life was expected to go on. Nothing changed. Nobody talked to me about it. Nobody treated me any differently. My world stopped in its orbit and fell into a tailspin, and nobody seemed to care. I cried myself to sleep that night with nothing to comfort me but my teddy bear. First of many times.

And now, more than 13 years later, I'm angry. And hurt. I'm not really sure what to do with it.

Done.

After being in love (or at least lust) with him for 9 months or so, it is over. I hold no more hope for us ever being a couple.

He invited me to his party celebrating his graduation from the Humphrey Institute. I knew there would be a lot of drinking, but I was ok with that (despite being "off" alcohol for a while). So I drank water. He did not. He didn't even mix his whiskey. Just straight from the bottle. Yuck.

All interest in him ended when he fell drunkenly against the patio door with his *hairy* butt pressed to the glass. Pants had slipped too far down. Apparently doesn't wear underwear.

I have decided I don't care to replicate my childhood.

Break through!

I've been unhappy for so long, I can't even remember when I was last happy. Like genuinely happy. Not fake, just-to-make-everyone-else-comfortable happy.

But I'm happy today. It started with sad. Grant made me cry. I almost cried, then stopped. He asked why I stopped. I said, "I don't cry for audiences." He asked why. I cried. And stopped. Then he asked me to talk about my grandpa. Both of us cried.

I feel like I can breath again.