Big Ball of Emotion

It's quite possible that I am emotionally stunted.

Wonderful.

Usually when I write on this blog, I give some hope at the end.  Well, at least I try to.  I try to relate it to God and his goodness and his faithfulness to all of us.

I don't know if I can do that today.

I'm in a class called Dynamics of Spiritual Life.  It's a great class.  One of our assignments is to do this thing called a "Design Paper" in which we figure out the design God has for us in our lives.  Which is fantastic.  Except it made me rehash my entire childhood.  Which brought up unresolved emotional issues from high school.

You'd think that 10 years after my senior year of high school, I would be over it.  But apparently I'm not.  And I figured out why.

First, let me tell you what I remember from senior year.

My boyfriend broke up with me two weeks before my senior year.  All my friends took his side in the break up and abandoned me, essentially leaving me friendless.  My mother had to force me to go to the homecoming game, where I sat alone.  I asked my parents multiple times if I could switch to the local public high school, and they said no.  The guy I asked to prom ditched me for another girl.

That's all I remember.  I didn't realize that I had blocked so much of it out.  I remember talking to one of  those friends who abandoned me, and he asked me if I had remembered a significant conversation that we had, and I had no recollection of it.  Someone else asked me if I remembered being at an event that happened, and I couldn't remember it.

My issue is not the ex-boyfriend.  I'm over that.  And thankful that we broke up, because we would have been unhappy together, and I clearly needed to grow emotionally and spiritually.  My issue is that when I needed my friends the most, when I was hurt and alone, they pushed me away.

And so starts the trust and loneliness issues that have been plaguing me for the last 10 years.

I was telling Melissa Z. a story the other day, and I told her that she was the second person to whom I had told that story, and she said, "you don't let people in very much, do you?"

I was under the impression that I let people in all the time.  However, she got me thinking.  I really don't let many people in.  When the big life events happen, I push people away because I don't want them to see that I'm hurting.  Or I play it off like I'm fine.  I've gotten so good at compartmentalizing my emotions that I don't even know when I'm doing it.

So 10 years later, I'm having a meltdown over something that happened to me in high school.  That's how long I've pushed aside that emotion.

I feel ridiculous that this is even happening to me.  I also feel sad, and hurt, that my 18 year old self had to deal with stuff that I didn't know how to handle.  I'm sad that all my friends deserted me.  I'm sad that I've been lonely for 10 years.  I feel like a child, stamping my foot and saying, "That's not fair!" Senior year of high school is supposed to be one of the best times in life, and it was the worst for me.  And that makes me angry.

I'm not writing this so that you will feel sorry for me.  I'm writing this so that you know what I'm dealing with when I'm crying in the middle of church, or if I leave the room, or if I shut my door in your face, or if I just don't seem like talking.

Anger was the one negative emotion I was ever allowed to feel at home.  We didn't cry, or feel hurt, we just got mad.  Because it never lasted long.  You asked for forgiveness, and then it went away.  When something sad happened, I remember my parents telling me, "You're fine.  Get over it."  Which, ironically, is how I respond to other people when bad things happen to them.  It takes every ounce of willpower NOT to say that to other people.  Because most of the time it's NOT fine, and they can't just get over it.

I thought I was over what happened in high school.  But I'm not.  I'm confused and angry at God that all of that happened to me.  I'm sad that I have so few good memories (the only good memory I have of high school is Octoberfest, which I love to talk about, so ask me about it.  There will be singing.).  And I'm left this big ball of emotion.  I'm crying out 10 years worth of hurt and loneliness.  And I don't know how to make it any better.  I don't know how to make the loneliness go away.  Maybe I have to start letting people in, but I don't want them to see me all emotional, because then I start thinking that people are just being my friend because they feel sorry for me, because I'm just the sad lonely girl.  And I don't like to share things about myself, because, as this Design Paper has revealed to me, my life is sad.  I don't have good memories or stories to share.  No one wants to hear the stories of how I sat by myself in the cafeteria at Hope.  No one wants to hear about how I almost left.  No one wants to hear about the weekends I spent alone at Calvin.  No one wants to hear about the 2 years when I lived with my parents and would stay in my room for 18 hours a day.

So I either tell people about the bad times in my life, at which point they feel sorry for me.  Or I push all the sadness aside and never deal with it and pretend to be happy.  Either way, I'm screwed.

I don't know what to do.  I don't even know where to begin.  And in the midst of all of this emotional stuff, I have to write an exegesis paper.  And a design paper.  Time doesn't stop while you deal with the crap of life.  It would be nice though.