I am deeply loved. By so many people, so much of the time. The parents at church are so full of love and generosity I always feel extremely undeserving. You know how people say that church is sometimes so superficial they only know how to say things like I'll pray for you? Mine is nothing like that. They pray, and they ache with me. I know because so many have cried for me. But they bring me so much joy and they are practical help. They bring me food, they order me groceries when my parents fail, they let me in to their house all the time, they send me back home even though it's an hour's drive back and forth, they accompany me at my house or at the hospital, they massage me, they listen and they always listen. They are here for me all the time and I know that.
But.
Sometimes the triggers appear at the most unexpected times and it feels like a stab to the heart and I can't stop my tears from flowing. I never opened up to my counsellor because she wasn't a believer and I know she wouldn't understand most of the things I am going through. But last week I met my pain doctor, I saw she was wearing a crucifix, and I just opened up to her a little, very naturally. And she understood. She brought me to tears very very quickly and she kept telling me that I had to stop holding all these feelings back. My counsellor and doctors would always ask me: who do you confide in, who can you talk to? I always felt a lump in my throat I had to swallow and utter: my friends. Because that's how it's always been. I have amazing friends and I always go to them.
But.
When the triggers come and I don't understand why I feel this sadness and I don't understand why I can't stop my tears, I realise I haven't been real to anyone. It's not like I've been lying, but there so much that's buried so deep within me that never surfaced. Sometimes I don't even know these issues exist and they silently fester in me.
Today's trigger was Perks of Being a Wallflower. What a cliché right? I think I've grown really emotional over these few months. Movies I used to mock now hit me so hard. We accept the love we think we deserve. I still feel guilt when the Ohs send me home, I joke that I am pampered and spoilt but I feel really really bad. I don't understand when Cindy tells me how good I've been, because I feel like the spawn of the devil towards my mother. That's what she called us growing up anyway, the devil's children, and I guess I'm starting to believe that. That I'm terrible to the core. I love when Aunty Marg is around because she's the most nurturing and loving of them all, I even let her hold my hair back when I was throwing up and she always rubs my back to ease my pain and I pretend to fall asleep so that she wouldn't go home too late. But I remember that I am not her child, and I don't deserve any of that.
When Charlie was talking about being a hospital kid and how he has bad days, I can't help but think of my own. Everyone tells me that I'm a tough cookie, that I'm a fighter, that I've been so strong. I always brush it aside because I don't think I've been through a lot. I don't think I've suffered a lot. But if I don't believe that I've been through hell why do I find myself crying most of the time, why do I find myself angry so often, why do I feel so lonely.
I never acknowledged my weakness or my strength or how much shit I've been through. I'm just on survival mode. I am not brave, I have no choice.
My pain doctor gave me meds for my nerves and she told me people usually give it out as an antidepressant. I joked with her that it would do me good. It was a joke. But then she looked at me and asked why do you think you are depressed? And then I couldn't stop crying.
Days like these I feel so sad and I don't know why.