Last night was difficult for me. I felt upset, hurt, angry, used, and mistreated. Upset drained my lungs and poured out of my eyes, my nose, my mouth. Saltwater, saliva, liquid gushing out of the emotional sores in my soul.
Yesterday I finished the semester and was struggling with understanding how my time will look like now and how different this summer will be in comparison to past summers.
Deep breaths, deep thoughts, anxiety welling up inside me.
Yesterday I was struggling with analyzing how unhealthy some of my friendships have become. “One friend”– our relationship seemed lost although I’d tried to salvage it. “Other friend”– after months of people telling me needed to get out of this unhealthy relationship, I finally admitted how harmful this friendship is to me.
Deep breaths, despair following, saltwater welling up behind my eyes.
That evening I took time to relax and breathe and mull over the hurt I was feeling. I lay on the sofa and my roommate flung the front door open suddenly to stand there for a moment and glare at me. Fear welled up in me immediately. She proceeded to slam her purse on the ground, stomp to the counter, slam down everything thing her fingers touched, and curse through the space, all because she was “in a pissy mood.” I felt violated to have had to experience her anger, her adult tantrum, even though it was not directed toward me. After a few moments I realized that my extreme upset at this situation was related to traumatic fits of anger that my dad and sister threw when I was growing up. I had not uncovered these painful memories in a long time.
Stomach churning, body tense with fear, tears pushing against the strong walls of my pride.
Later last night, “One friend” texted me for the first time in over a week to say “I need to talk to you at some point.” Our relationship seemed lost, I was trying to salvage it, but equal effort was not being put in, and important puzzle pieces to a healthy relationship were missing.
Tearing up, eyeballs glossing over, body not sure how much it can handle in one day. How many tacks can one step on before they can’t keep walking?
“One friend” called me and I was tearful from the start. I was upset but I didn’t want to hold back the conversation. Anticipation of dreadful news would only hurt me more. So she told me that she found a tumor in her knee. The second tumor ever found in her 20-year old body. One of 10+ potentially lethal health issues she has suffered. She told me this, and it broke my heart. She will ignore me for weeks and months and never ask how I’m doing, but when an upsetting diagnosis is made, that is when she contacts me. That is only when she contacts me. My heart was more broken for what this meant about our relationship than for what this meant about her health.
Tears pouring out, hanging up the phone, stepping inside my apartment, sobbing and sobbing. Retreating to the bathroom, I lay myself down. Turning the shower on, I lay in a fetal position as the water rises. Hyperventilating, lungs working hard. Loud sobs mixing with quiet outpours of tears.
My broken heart spilling out in chunks, floating around me, then disappearing down the bathtub drain.