this slippery slope called silence ...
I have come to the conclusion that I should not talk about
the things that bother me. Not in the ways of
communication with others. That when someone hurts me or
something someone has said or done bothers me I should not
share this with others. Yes, write about it here... but
have you ever noticed the genderless, nameless way in
which I write here? There is a reason for this. Those
closest to me perhaps might be able to guess who I write
about but... they cannot be certain.
I simply should not talk to people about the turmoil in my
soul caused by others. It never fixes anything in the long
run... it always simply makes things worse in the end.
A friend's concerns breed an explanation. An explanation
is given, non-specific of course except for the feelings
within myself which are of course spoken plainly, but the
events themselves are generalized. The next thing I know
these words are twisted around by said friend to be taken
in a different way... and find their way back to the
person I'd been hurt by in the first place. Even with
events initially vague when given then twisted by another,
the person knew it was them I had spoke on... denials of
understanding disintegrate beneath that. They cannot say
they don't know or understand what is happening if they
can take the warped and twisted version of some
generalized explanation I'd given some one and KNOW it was
them I’d spoke of even if what had been said was warped in
Another friend's concern pulls words and painful events
from my lips. Knowledge which is then used against them
later by another. They would not have been targeted nor
been hurt if the knowledge had not been given to them in
the first place. Yes, I know you saw me in a most
vulnerable state, were there to touch my soul when it was
raw at that time and soothe the burn... this is both
precious and treasured, I know. But I regret... because it
has ended up hurting you.
Am I making sense at all? Probably not as my mind is going
in circles like a dog chasing its tail, except that I'm
not chasing anything.
I am retreating. I had become very social, and enjoyed it.
VERY much enjoyed it... but no more. This painful event
has spread a poison over that pleasure and turned it to
apathy and pain. I had tried simply retreating a short
distance... had thought that combined with cutting myself
off from this person would be enough, but it has come to
my attention this will not work... does not work. And so I
am simply retreating back to the ghost I have always been
before discovering that beautiful new way of weaving words
and interacting with others. I was having so much fun...
but I'm not anymore. And I can find no way to recapture
the great enjoyment I had experienced... as the pain and
distrust I feel is now a pall over each experience, it
stains and bitters everything.
I am the star to the northwest named darkness. I am simply
phantasma once again... the eidolon hidden and whispering
in the dark. And unless some urge, random and rare,
strikes upon me from time to time... that is all I will be.
Jer will be so freakin' happy about this decision.
And I feel like throwing things... and screaming.