And haven’t I got them today. I woke up in the middle of the night angry as I haven’t been in a very long time. I have felt frustrated all of last week. My trigger last week, well the thing I can remember reacting to most vehemently in my core, was people around me being the ‘victim’ in their life stories rather than picking up and moving on. I am sure that resulted, in part, in the worst migraine I had had in a fair few weeks. The rest of it is not letting myself cry that I miscarried. Not letting myself feel the anger, the injustice. And trying not to get angry, all over again, at the people who I thought were closest to me, letting me bleed for two days on my own. And then when I spoke to them about it, them blaming me for that or saying they had their own stuff to deal with. I am so angry that I have forgiven them. So angry that I didn’t make them suffer. So angry for being me.
And the victims. I had been thinking that they really need to focus on what they do have in life and celebrate that. If only I could find some of that gratitude today. A full on ego day for me. I have scrubbed my house in the hopes of venting it productively but it has not helped. Whilst I was washing up I thought maybe I was angry at the victims because I don’t permit myself that very often. I’m all like, life is good, people can be forgiven, don’t let your ego rule your decisions, and I fear that today that has resulted in what Holly Golightly referred to as the mean reds.
But being a victim, for a short period of time, is basically saying that you know you deserved better than whatever treatment had been levelled your way. And I have realised that I am angry at me, with me, because of who I am. I am angry that I do not believe, conveyed through my actions, that I deserve better, that I am worth more. Worth more than my friends and family treated me. I am so angry about my birthday this year. So angry that if it hadn’t been for one sister and two friends, I would have damaged myself psychologically more than I did. So so angry that no-one ever thinks about me or plans stuff for me or makes me feel like I am important. I am the go to person. If we need help, advice, or a shoulder we contact Tina. She will know what to do, she will make us feel better, Tina will fix it.
Yes the mean reds. And no end in sight. I know I need to cry. But I push those tears back. Scared that if they start there will be no end to them.
This is part of my process. Someone said this morning that they perceived I have a full circle of support. I told them it was their perception and their perception alone. Someone else, who doesn’t even know me, then said that everyone has support. And I became angry, wanting to shout, how in hell can you say that for everyone, you don’t know me, you don’t know my life story, and yes, I became a victim. But rather than expressing that, I left the conversation because who am I to make someone who was trying to be nice, feel yuck. How dare I. But how many people visit their shit on me and then walk away. How many people have always done that.
The last eight months have shown me, that for the most part, I live my life alone. Sometimes by choice because I am terrified that if I trust anyone they will break it, and that has happened too many times throughout my life that I am completely damaged now. So many broken promises have left me dry and unable to give anymore.
Yes, the mean reds. A violent, bloody red. Massacred souls screaming from deep within because no one chooses to hear.