Friday, July 15, 2016

A balancing act

I'm angry again. The numbness has worn off. I miss it. It's no wonder that I was such a stellar citizen when I had a drug habit. I needed that shady underbelly as an outlet.

I now understand why I'm so angry. It's empathy that pisses me off. I have ruined every aspect of my life in favor of trying to keep this family together because I love these fucked up dysfunctional people. I feel their pain. I give up everything to try and help them. I'm angry because they don't deserve any of it. They don't deserve my love or empathy or help. They blame me for things that were beyond my control. They blame each other. They are trapped in a cyclical abusive dance, and they push me to dance with them every day. I'm angry with them for not making an effort to change. I'm angry at the system that causes so many like us to repeat the same process. But mostly I'm angry at myself for sacrificing every opportunity I've had to break away from this family. I'm angry at my friends for telling me not to return here, even though they were right. 

I think a lot about the things that are missing from my life, basically everything. I've kept my nose so clean that I have no outlet for these emotions. Albeit delicate, I managed to strike a balance when my former employer rescued me from obscurity and gave me a purpose. It wasn't perfect, and I still had a hole to fill, but it was direction and focus and it kept me busy. There was a way to channel some of this energy into something productive instead of allowing it to fester in my brain the way it is now. Every day is the same exact battle, and I am so tired of fighting it, but I didn't leave myself an out. I burned every bridge to another option. If I can't save it, 'm going down with this ship.

So, I am angry. I am so angry that I could explode. I'm afraid to work on the book. Remembering the past just makes it worse. It makes me hate them. I know that hate is never the answer to anything, but I need to finish the book. I don't know if it will solve any of these problems, but maybe it will free me from this overwhelming guilt and obligation I feel towards these people. I am afraid to feel more anger. I don't know if I can be strong enough to keep myself from being overcome by hatred. It's not the book that scares me; It's me.

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