where the pain becomes too much

i think i'm in that place where the pain of my current situation has become more than i can continue to contemplate. i know this to be true because i'm at the point where every time i think about a painful experience my heart literally becomes so heavy and hurts so much that it feels as if either my chest will rip open at any moment or my insides will come pouring out of my tear ducts in a great rush.

i had plans for writing some additional blog entries about how i am feeling about this particular friendship or at least the difficult emotional state that has emerged from its seeming dissolution, the outlines of which sit on a scrap of paper at my side. well, sharing those thoughts no longer holds any interest for me. it feels like a fruitless exercise at this point, seeing as all it really does is cause me to reside in the hurt longer with no real escape from it.

all this being stated, i think it's time for me to step away from this blog for awhile and wait to come back when the focus of my entries won't be about sean's sudden departure. i need to see if i can find at least some reasonable approximation of healing in the near term before attempting to express myself again in this space.

i'm not sure how one fully recovers from the experience of someone walking out of your life with not even a backward glance (it's happened to me on two other occasions and the wounds from those experiences still linger very deep in my soul). even with all the pain that came from my relationship with michael, i haven't done that to him.

i guess that's just the way the world is or at least my world. i'm still not sure what i've done to have these kind of relationship experiences continue to recur in my life. in this particular situation (just like the other two significant ones), it doesn't look like i will ever know.

it does seem that way

yesterday, i was reading a review of the new janet jackson album (did i mention that i love it?), and the following quote struck me as a clear reflection of how i've been feeling of late:

the highlight “after you fall” isn’t much more than a minimal piano and a hushed vocal that proves how big a small voice can be. in that song and “the great forever,” which starts with trip-hoppish electronics, jackson considers how cruelly the world treats people who are kind and idealistic.

as has been evident from the last several entries (and many others dispersed throughout this site), i'm struggling with what i've done wrong to deserve the experience i'm having now. i try my best to be kind, to be giving, to be caring. yes, i have had major struggles with depression and insecurities, but does that mean i don't deserve to have meaningful relationships, that what i do deserve is to be alone and unloved?

i continue to be lost about what is going on with my life. i still hope for something really good to happen. it feels like i'm hoping in vain.

here's one of the songs that is referenced in the quote above. it's one that wrecks me every time i hear it because for me, in my life right now, the answer to the question that's posed is always, "i really don't know."

after you fall - janet jackson

a special kind of pain

there is a special kind of pain that comes from the experience of deeply caring for someone and feeling that it is neither appreciated or reciprocated. as shared in a few entries of late, this is the experience i find myself in now.

as a result, i have been doubting that attempting any degree of dedicated engagement in a relationship  makes any difference in the quality of the experience or its long-term sustainability. i guess another way of expressing this perspective is i continue to be haunted by the thought that it never seems to matter what i do, how hard i try to give the best of myself in a relationship, the relationship seems to be inevitably doomed to failure

i do not know how to ease the heaviness of my heart. i pray that someway, somehow through whatever means, known or unknown to me, the weight will be lifted; and i will feel free to give myself fully and freely to relationships again.

i heard the song i'm posting in my ride to the airport  this morning for my return trip home. though it really doesn't describe my specific situation, it certainly conveys the spirit of this special kind of pain.

diary - bread

it's not a trip to an amusement park

every morning of late, i wake up, clean up, get dressed, and have breakfast before proceeding to the other events of the day. inevitably, somewhere in that succession of activities, some level of emotional pain surfaces in my heart and mind over the current friendship situation with which i'm struggling. each time it does, i'm disheartened by the fact that the hurt continues to be so persistently present, and i ask god and myself when i will ever feel better.

yesterday, when this same pattern emerged (this time while making breakfast) and the same questioning about the duration of this difficult episode in my life occurred, this one thought broke through the sadness, "you know, this is not like a trip with the kids to an amusement park. you have to recognize that it's going to take time to heal and so you can't keep constantly asking yourself, 'are we there yet? are we there yet? are we there yet?' every day."

so, yes, it will take time to heal. later in the same day, i had another moment of reflection that occurred while i was driving to (of all things) my appointment with my psychiatrist. in it i realized that there is a reason i need to expect it will take quite some time to get over this experience -- a reason that makes me question if "healing" is the realistic goal or if i might have to settle for "just feeling better."

you see, along with the heartbreak that is associated with this seeming loss of this friendship, i have had this recurring thought that has become almost like a mantra, "i can't believe this is happening to me again." i shared in an entry a couple of days ago about the incident with my best friend from high school. what i did not share, and really didn't consciously realize until my car ride yesterday, is that this dynamic of having to deal with issues of abandonment stretches throughout my life. beginning with the foundation laid by my father's early and permanent departure, i've dealt with a major similar loss in relationship in every decade of my life.

the unfortunate thing about this recurring pattern of experience is it's a constant reopening of a wound that causes the pain to go even deeper. as a result, i might get better to a certain degree but the fear of it happening again becomes ever more prevalent with every new relationship (again), especially with men). so much so that there inevitably comes this moment when i sense the signs of lack of engagement or interest and i begin to envision the other person following a clear path out of my life forever.

i've been listening repeatedly to janet jackson's sublimely good new album, and the title track (which i'm posting as today's blog song)  has been resonating with me quite a bit. i guess with it's message of lasting fidelity, it shouldn't be surprising that it speaks very deeply to a soul laden with abandonment issues.

so asking "are we there yet?" on this particular trip indeed doesn't make sense, particularly when i have no idea if i ever will reach that amusement park.

unbreakable - janet jackson

a dream about a dog

last night i dreamt i was walking along the sidewalks of new york city when i came upon a dog, running back and forth between the curb and the street trying to get the attention of anyone walking by. at that point, my dog lover instinct kicked in and i thought that i should do something to help the poor puppy (a beagle by the way).

just at the moment i had that thought, i felt a gentle pressure and a tugging on my thumb. it was the eager dog making his presence known, and with that i thought, "well i guess that's decided." i scooped him up in my arms and examined him for any tags that would identify his owner or the home from which he came. nothing to be found on that front, so i thought that i needed to find the local aspca or similar shelter to take him, and hopefully, either reconnect him with his owners (assuming they wanted him) or provide him the opportunity to be found by a new family. the trick was how would i find the nearest dog shelter given that i was from out of town and had no clue where to go.

as luck would have it (and this being a dream), i spotted a veterinary clinic right down the block. i made a beeline in that direction, went in and asked the guy at the desk if he knew of a shelter. he said he didn't, but that the vet would. he offered to go ask her about it and come back with an answer.

i took a seat with the dog lying peacefully in my lap. as i stroked his fur, wanting to keep him calm and feeling of safe, i began thinking about my dog nicholas, who passed away almost six years ago. i thought about how, even after this long a time, i still missed him; and maybe i should consider keeping my new found friend of only a few hours. maybe i should consider it a sign that his grabbing my thumb meant that we were meant for one another and i should be his new owner. and wasn't it nice that alone in this great big city, i'd found someone who wanted me to be in his life.

the thoughts were interrupted by the guy at the desk returning with the doctor herself. she shared with me the address of the shelter, which happened to be just a few blocks away. just before i woke up, i remember asking if they had a collar and a leash that i could purchase.

when i did wake up, as with all dreams, i wondered what it all meant. to be honest, i can't say that i figured it out. what i did realize though is that while i'm not sure i really need another dog, it would be really great to have someone of the two-legged variety who wanted me.

discarded

there is one feeling that i can't seem to escape. i feel like i've been discarded -- a crumpled up piece of paper that's been thrown in the waste bin. an object that is unwanted, unneeded, and viewed as completely worthless. it's not a good feeling to carry in one's heart, broken as it may be.

when you hope you're wrong

i'm one of those kinds of people that does his very best to make sure i'm correct with every statement i make, every perspective i share, every belief i hold. this can manifest itself in my going to wikipedia to check the dates of a historical event before commenting on it or checking a word on dictionary.com  before using it in a conversation or even, say, typing it in a blog entry.

even with this idiosyncrasy, there are actually times when i hope that i am wrong. yesterday i detailed how i was pretty sure that i was in the midst of a phenomenon that has happened a few times in my life, sharing the most painful of those experiences.

now with the friendship i spoke to in that entry, i still can't help but think that maybe, just maybe my relationship status sensors are off kilter, even just a bit. as with each passing day my belief deepens that the connection we have is disintegrating, i contemplate that maybe this dynamic of distance is something that occurs periodically in my friend's life, and with this being a fairly new relationship, this is the first time i'm experiencing it with him.

maybe he still does feel that our friendship is something he desires to continue to have as a part of his life. maybe any day now i will get a text or an im with a "hello, hope you're doing well. sorry i haven't been around" followed by an explanation (no matter how brief) of what's been happening. maybe that explanation will allay my fears and doubts about the security and long-term prospects of our friendship, if not for once and for all, at least for the immediate future.

maybe i'm just lying to myself about all of these other "maybes" and the silent days will continue and the pain will consume my heart indefinitely. maybe, but i certainly hope that i am wrong.