Maybe I'm the one, maybe I"m the one .. who is .. a schizophrenic psycho
>> Friday, August 21, 2009
I'm an emotional person. I mean, come on - I'm a girl, it's a given. But perhaps I cry more than others. It doesn't really make a difference.
But because I keep my heart out in the open and easier to get slashed and beaten, my hurt feelings and sadness are often mistaken for psychosis. I am not crazy. I am not a schizophrenic psycho.
I am also the kind of person who falls the hardest every..single..time. When I love someone, I love them with everything I have. I am certainly not perfect and I'm sure I am not the person I hope to be 100 percent of the time, but I am confident that I give my utmost to those that I love.
Those two qualities combined do not make for a great character analysis. Because I love deeply AND wear my heart on my sleeve, I get my feelings hurt often and can't keep what I'm feeling inside.
But what is most unfortunate about my situation is that I have yet to find another like me, who understands what I go through. Instead, the people I love hurt me and hate me for being upset. It's (I've been told) an annoyance.
I've tried, in past relationships, to stop caring. To not be bothered by the hurtful actions of those I love, and to most certainly not react in a way that exudes my frustration, sadness, hurt ....
What I found out was that when you stop caring, you do just that. You can't not care about how someone makes you feel and still care about the person. It's impossible. In fact, the frustration, the sadness, the hurt - these all come because you care for someone. Without the emotion, there is no love. At least not for me.
So I often come to a crossroads where I have to choose whether I want to continue caring for someone, or stop feeling like the psycho-babble annoyance I know I am. In the past, it hasn't been easy, but I've typically (okay, only once) chosen to stop caring. In the end, it worked out. You move on, you get over it.
But sometimes there are more things at stake than just a relationship or a legal document. Every now and then, things are worth more than to just give up. Even if it means tears and lots of journal pages. It's still worth it.
And that's just the way it is. There is no amount of crazy medicine or therapy sessions that will take away what I feel inside. I've come to accept that it's who I am, and how I love. It is unfortunate, I'll admit - for both myself and the recipient of my feelings. But how do you make those pangs go away? And would you want to?