I Asked for It

I love my family. I love them dearly and would fight anyone who crossed them fiercely. I can get really protective of people I love. Sometimes though, I wish they knew me better. Our dynamic is all screwed up. Growing up they used to go on and on about how "sensitive" I was and how tenderhearted.

I used to be much quicker to get to angry. It takes something pretty big to send me up there now. Also, I can't tolerate immature attitudes like I once could. I think grownups should take responsibility for their actions. Also, I wish that sometimes I didn't have to spell out every little thing I'm feeling to the people who watched me become a grown-up.

We were doing some heavy clearing out today. We were cleaning my craft room, and after a while it just became overwhelming. I kept seeing all this stuff, and realized that I was hoarding all this stuff because of what it became, my escape from the sad and depression.

I still love the creating, but there was so much in the room, it was like walking into a puddle that you suddenly slipped and fell into. It was WAY TOO MUCH STUFF.

I know some crafters would disagree, but the only way I've been able to do any creating is to bring limited supplies downstairs and make something with them.

There is a such thing as too much stuff.

Also, I have learned from the living spaces that I'm more comfortable in, that I like not being overwhelmed with belongings.

I am not my belongings.

But they are really and truly beginning to reflect me.

And that makes me happy.

I had a meltdown today.

I just needed someone to tell me that my stuff didn't matter and that it could go away and nothing bad would happen. One of my sisters finally got what I couldn't find those words to say. And after that... I don't even know what got thrown away... but they did it until I couldn't take them just tossing my things anymore. And then I had to go lay down and cry.

I wanted a hug. But couldn't ask for it. They don't know how to take me now... I'm stronger than I used to be, but not as strong as they think I am. I want them to hold me, but I don't know how to ask... and am afraid they will misinterpret what I'm asking for, that they will then pity me.

It's not that I'm proud, I just want comfort without pity, without judgement. The ability to be sad without them thinking that they can tell me where to go or what to do about it. The ability for them to be understanding and accepting of the fact that the hardest part of all this is the realization that my marriage wasn't what I thought it was. That I have been alone and hiding that fact, and trying my best to keep it from even me.