How it Shines

This one is a bit all over the place, it was written over three days and I’ve been feeling really yuk for all of them.

Our no self harm pact didn’t last very long. I made it longer than L, but I was more deceptive - which upset her. L told me right away and I came to help her clean up. I was caught – twice. That night made me realise how much I mean to her. I knew she cared about me, why else would she demand I stay with her post release. But to see her cry because I had deceived her, and that she felt a sense of failure to help me tore at my heart. Tears don’t come easily to me (break up with M excepted), I shed a few on Tuesday because I’d hurt my friend, my friend who wants to know the truth when she asks how I am, my friend who (gently) beats me up when I feel like smashing my arm into a wall, my friend who cuts my hair when I want to cut off my head, my friend who actually understands all this shit.

As I discovered on Tuesday with L, It hasn’t been instilled in me to be emotionally honest. Emotions are dangerous things that should be hidden or lied about. On Tuesday I could have told L that I was feeling terrible – the sort of terrible she understands – but instead I told my torso and wrist that I was feeling terrible, then L walked through the door! I saw her disappointment, felt a little bad about it and then did it again later in the night. This time she was distraught. I’m in her home being looked after by her and I can’t confide in her, I instead confide in a piece of metal. We talked, we cried and we talked some more. I realised that L wants to know me, to love me, to help me. I can let her know what is usually hidden or spread out. I don’t need to hide or lie.

I grew up in a home where talking openly about feelings was not expected, nor encouraged. I had no right to be sad, because I had a roof over my head, and food on my plate – what more could you want? The complexities of being human were not addressed in the way we lived. Deep thought was not encouraged because I was just day dreaming – wasting time, television was god. My parents don’t ponder, everything is very shallow in their world, an invisible illness is too hard to talk about. As a seven year-old - I was left to my own devices dealing with the loss of my brother, any mention of him remains taboo. Small things could be discussed with my mother, such as crushes and why no one liked me – it was my fault, I must be mean without realising it. As he got older my replacement brother (sorry S if you’re reading – I don’t really view you that way) became more of a confidant, there is a massive age difference and some problems, but by his age of seven or eight we were able to talk about family matters in a way we couldn’t with anyone else. Throughout my teenage years and into young adulthood I trusted no one completely. Different people could be told certain things, and if ten people were amalgamated into one then that monstrosity would know all of me. Then I met M.

I thought I trusted M completely with my emotions, I told him everything and don’t think I ever lied to him, but I couldn’t express, nor could he understand the storm inside me. We all have our secrets, and I don’t care about them, emotional honesty is what I’m on about. Emotional honesty is what I’m learning about with L, it’s hard for me.

For my Christian readers, I know what you’re thinking, that’s a different topic and has not escaped my attention.