A feelings box

I stopped writing and my world fell apart.

It sounds dramatic.

It’s really not too far from the truth.

How can the non existence of one action cause such destruction?

I’m only beginning to grasp an understanding of how this happened.

When Oli was born I taught myself to ignore my feelings. I learned to stuff them down, deep inside a box and I never looked at them. I never experienced them. I just left them there in the box to rot. They were left rotting there until their foul, putrid contents bubbled up and out and spilled all over me and everyone around me. That box was filled my pain and once escaped, it became its own living being. A pain body. It completely consumed me. It wasn’t until I recogized it for what it was and looked at the foulness that had splattered all over my world, that I began to cope and accept those ignored feelings. I took that mess and laid it all out onto paper. I didn’t heal until the pain and fear and anger and sadness were turned into words.

Now I find myself back in the same boat. I’ve stuffed four years of hurt and fear and anger and sadness into a damn box again. As I sit here it actually feels like 15 stuffed feeling boxes that are just sitting and festering.

I stopped doing all of the things that I know to do and let a relationship control me. I stopped being me and became someone else. I lost myself in the chaos that I created when that feelings monster, that pain body, erupted from it’s crypt once more.

I really want to tell the story of the last four years, and I will eventually, but right now I don’t even know where to start. I know it partially began when I tried to become this perfect “fine” me that I just am not. For some reason I couldn’t let my husband know that I didn’t have my shit together.

Why? Why do I pretend to be fine?

When I started to become hurt and scared in our relationship I do what I do every time I feel things I don’t want to feel. I simply stopped feeling.

I’m sure this behavior was learned way before Oli came into the world, but I know I wasn’t aware of it until then.

So now I’m back at the beginning. Well… maybe not the beginning. I believe everything that happens in life happens as it is supposed to.

How do we know that this is where we are supposed to be in life? Because this is where we are.

I don’t know what will happen with my husband or our future.

I do know that in order to find “myself” again I must unbox the last 1,840 days worth of feelings that I am just now trying to look at and trying to experience.

It’s painful. It hurts. But it’s better than feeling nothing.

In order to get through it I have to write.

I do find it slightly ironic that my very last blog entry in Aug of 2015 was about how I run to cope with my feelings.

I pretty much stopped doing that too.

I seem to learn a lot about myself through this blog.

So today, in order to start putting my world back together, I am running and I am writing.

Thanks for reading.