It’s always been much easier to write out what I have to say than actually speaking it. When I speak… it is like there is a whole other person doing the interacting. It’s like I’m watching myself talk rather than thinking of things to say. So I don’t. I just react based off of the other person. Like a mirror. The reflected image doesn’t do, it just is. There are no independent thoughts or actions for a reflection. When the interaction is over, I’m back in the drivers seat of my mind, feeling somewhat empty and listless and more alone that before the conversation had began. This has been a constant problem for me all of my life.
Having a default personality that is not me. That is not how I talk, think, act, or feel on the inside. But it comes out of me, so it is my creation.
When I was five, my father visited my family in Atlanta. I remember being pulled out of class during the end of Balto, and my young heart was filled with joy and excitement when I saw my father’s truck on the side of road approaching home. I knew instantly, that it was him. I knew he was back, finally. It felt so good.
After that part I don’t remember much, which I honestly find kind of ironic. Like I erased the memory of him holding me, hugging me, talking to me.
The next part I remember is him leaving again. I’m inside the house, watching him get in his truck from behind the screen door. I don’t know why this moment felt so definite to me. As I said, I didn’t remember any specific goodbye, any special treatment or extra long hugs to signal that he would leave and not come back into my life for ten years. I just remember seeing him climb into the truck, and like Balto when his pack member died, feeling so empty and alone that all I could do is howl the best howl a five year old human girl could muster.
This is a very significant memory to me. I feel that it is when I learned (though miseducation) that I should not articulate my feelings to another person. It is when I subconsciously learned to swallow my pain and let the other person do as they please regardless of the effects their actions caused to me personally.
I believe this was the beginning of my false sense of self.
Probably too random, deep, and personal for Tumblr but everything on one’s blog doesn’t have to be expected, super cool, and estranged, does it?