During one of my brief (but not so brief) eating disorder times (I don’t know what else to call my really unhealthy habit of eating nearly nothing and exercising too much everyday for almost a month (which I have done several times throughout my lifetime but definitely not the story I’m telling right now)), I had a jolt (which I define as a really good burst of words into my brain that becomes great writing material (they come suddenly)) while I was driving and obviously my hands are on the wheel so I said the line out loud again and again adding more and more until it got really good so I fumbled with my phone and set it to record and started to record what I was writing in my head (which by the way sounded better the first 80 times around). And I can tell you one thing. That one time was the first time I had come close to even possibly explain how I was feeling.
Well I at least got close to it.
And I have remembered it always because I also have it written as a note in my phone (it’s one of the crappier versions that I hoped would develop over time). That and well someone told me the same thing.
“It’s kinda like a black hole.”
That’s what he said, in reference to keeping your feelings in when I said I preferred not to talk about my feelings (or I said something of the sort, I was so fixated on the fact that we had said the same thing that I forget now). And that’s what my line was that one day.
“It’s sorta like a black hole.”
And yeah it sounds really vague but that’s really how close I’ve come to attempting to explain my feelings. Because I can tell you right now that I’m not a feelings person.
Which is hilarious because upon meeting me, I will probably be one of the most emotional people you will ever meet (but it will be funny because you won’t have actually known you met the most emotional person you’ll ever meet). Does that make sense?
I guess I never had emotional friends. Like although I’m the biggest talker you will ever meet, i definitely grew up a listener also. My best friends growing up were the same friends and they were self involved. But that was who they were. So I asked about them and they talked about them (because they were who they loved to talk about) and they didn’t ask about me and that was fine by me. (Because I didn’t want to talk about me anyhow.) So, no, we never cried on each other’s shoulders, or put all our feelings on the table, or went to each other when we were in a dark place. We were best friends but we were not on that level.
So I didn’t grow up with a shoulder to cry on because I was the shoulder to cry on. When my friend S broke up with her long time boyfriend and couldn’t figure out her feelings, when A couldn’t decide between Kyle and Matthew, or when B’s on again of again Mormon boyfriend decided he needed a Mormon girl, I was there. But when my brother was being terrible and I stayed up until 3AM as a sophomore doing homework for a class I hated and my weight was bothering me and the boy I liked didn’t like me back and I was too stressed to handle anything, I just pushed on and I pretended like I wasn’t actually falling apart.
I’m serious. I was falling apart that year (2010).
But I was the one who gave advice on boyfriends I had no experience with and I fixed the problems and I kept my phone on hand to text back when they did need to consult me. And so in turn I never consulted with anyone about my own dumb stuff.
So I never learned how to share, or how to put my feelings into words.
BUT IS THAT MY FAULT???! (That the only thing I know how to do when I’m utterly depressed is shovel ice cream down my throat or bury myself in pizza????(i actually specifically remember being on a bus ride home from a volleyball game with all the cheerleaders (who were also my good friends) and feeling so lonely and having no one to talk to so when I got home I skipped on my homework and ate vanilla ice cream with cookie dough in the dark until my stomachache was so bad that I’d forgotten i was feeling bad in the first place)).
So even now, years later, I’m a girl who is 99.9% of the time an (usually stressed out) emotional wreck, only you wouldn’t know it if you saw me (should I be an Oscar nominee??).
So yeah it sorta is like a black hole, but I’m also in a super awesome space ship that knows how to resist black holes.
If this was depressing it wasn’t the point. It was just me explaining how my mind works with feelings. And that I’m not the girl who claims to have none. Because I have infinitely many (math reference).
(I once accidentally hit something on the way home and was so sure it was an animal that I cried the whole way home and begged the animal gods (and the universe) for forgiveness, and now I kinda wanna be a vet (but don’t tell anyone (I’m still telling adults I don’t know what I want to do with my life so when i end up doing something, they are in awe))).