Monday, March 8, 2004

Carry the Stones

I have been bearing an incredible load over the past few weeks, and I fear it is weighing me down so much that I may not be able to stagger back to my feet.

A couple of weeks ago, I learned of something going on in my family that I thought would never happen. This event has fucked with my mind since then, to the point that I am questioning the value of friendship, of family, and even of my own faith (in many things).

I used to have panic attacks a long time ago, until I found the strength within me to overcome them and live a "normal" life, like most of the rest of humanity. Now they've returned, and more frequently than ever. This past Friday, I took our car to Boone for servicing, and while I was there I spent the night at Kathy's mom's house, even though she wasn't there. Friday night I suffered four panic attacks. At one point I woke up screaming my wife's name.

What's worse, when I got home Saturday, Kathy and I got into a vicious arguement over something that 99% of the time could have been resolved with a simple "I love you" and a hug.

Getting back to the problem, though, I wish I could talk about what's going on in my family right now, but I feel so fucking vulnerable right now that I feel as if I'm taking a risk just posting this admittedly vague message on this blog. All I can say is that someone I once forgave for personal crimes against me has gone and perpetrated other, equally heinous crimes against other people who couldn't protect themselves, and this person should have goddamed known better!

I've been expecting them to call me to talk and I've been warned to keep things civil and not let on the truth I know, lest something slip out prematurely. As it stands right now, however, if that person was to call me, I would be VERY hard pressed not to let out a torrent of anger at them; anger that I have suppressed for a lifetime and from a myriad of different sources.

Why is it I'm always the last to know about family matters? Why do people feel the need to keep things from me until it's too late? Why do I feel like a pariah in all of this, not only with family but with friends? God, I just wish I could laugh again without feeling self-conscious. I'm just so motherfucking miserable.

Shit.

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