5. Wounds

Hey Chadderbox,

I’ve had the flu for a few days now, and there’s an urge I’ve found myself coming back to over and over again in my isolated state. There’s something about being sick that makes me want to tear into the people I’ve loved who ended up hurting me.

I sink into cyclical thoughts that make my brows furrow. The corner of my lip raises on its own, into an Elvis-like grimace of a micro-expression when I let loose. Why the hell weren’t they there for me? I loved them. I was there for them. I stood by them. Why didn’t they show up for me?

It wasn’t pleasant to sit in that anger, but it was easy. It was easier to stew in it.

So I did for a few days.

I left them better than I found them, right? Right?

Fuck them for leaving me wounded.
Fuck them for leaving.
Fuck them for leaving unscathed.

This line of thinking wasn’t making me feel better by any means. It made me feel more alone. I am writing now to figure out what the hell is really going on.

What is it about being sick that made me want to tear into the people I loved who ended up hurting my heart?

I can be honest with myself when I break it down to the base. Let’s work through it.

I am sick and I am alone.

When I am sick, I am weak. I find myself needing to rely on others more than I would like, which I’ve grown averse to out of a need for self preservation.

I think, “They weren’t there for me, I don’t want to need someone ever again. I won’t.”

But I do need someone, because I’m burning up, and I can’t breathe, and I don’t have medicine, and I didn’t get groceries yet because I didn’t plan for this, and I can’t afford to see a doctor, and, and, and

and I’m growing weaker because I’m fighting myself in a losing battle

where one side finally admits she wants someone and the other refuses to believe someone will ever really be there at all.

But I keep fighting, so healing never happens.

It’s hard to look in the mirror when you feel wounded and believe someone else could ever really help when you haven’t been able to heal yourself.

I don’t really know how to get past this yet, it’s something I’m going to have to wade through. But I will write down what I do know.

I don’t want to tear into the people who ended up not loving me after all, it does not bring any healing and I know they have their valid reasons for leaving.

I am not weak for being affected by that feeling of emptiness after their departure. I am brave for acknowledging it.

And I am not weak for eventually wanting someone to help me carry some of the weight when everything gets too heavy. For wanting someone to stick with me because they care, because they love me, and because I am worth it. I am brave for admitting I want that despite being wounded before.

Maybe that’s where the answer really lies - believing, like you did, that I’m worth it at all. I always find myself forgetting that, but it all comes together when I type it out. It’s right there.

Thank you for believing in my worth.

Wow. There we go.

Love you like a brother, Chadderbox. And I miss you like crazy. I’ll post a few songs I’ve been listening to later this week, but here’s one for now I’ve been loving.

Before I go, I just want you to know I’m going to be writing more often. Until then.

-BreSoftware