Two years and a half years ago I broke.

I’d spent months and months being semi-wreckless with my good friends Ciroc and Cranberry, and partying. It came to somewhat of a head in June of 2008. I couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t want to eat. I just laid there crying. Constantly. Uncontrollably. All day for a week and a half. I got it together (somewhat) and started trying to be normal. I went to work again but even there- I would cry sometimes, at random. I wasn’t really talking to anyone I was just teetering there on the line…waiting for something to push me either way.
Then…my roommate kicked me out. Gave me a day’s notice and told me to get out. Never one for dramatics I got a crew together and moved my things that night. That night, I broke.

I moved back home to Atlanta to stay with my parents, something I hadn’t done since I was a teenager and here I was 24. All I wanted to do was sleep. Or die. To just wake up and be above my body…out of whatever fog my life had fallen into. I kept up a very unconvincing charade of wellness, and tried to just remain below the radar at home. Most times it worked. Not one person asked me how I was moving back home. They all wanted to know what was the story? What wasn’t I telling? What really happened with my roommate and I? I got the sense that despite the circumstance…I was the bad guy. I’d hurt him? I chalked it up to the myriad of other things I’d done wrong. I never got angry.

Fast forward to now…Roommate and I have reconciled. Despite all things, my family still thinks he’s some demi-god and has taken to telling me so any opportunity they get; including and especially Thanksgiving dinner. He is (as I’ve been told) my best bet. Complete disregard to my current boyfriend, because I’m missing “it”. The bigger picture. Once again, I’m doing something wrong.

In all this…no one ever asks me anything. My words fall on deaf ears and I constantly affirm and reaffirm my choices as my environment tells me I’m crazy. AM I missing something? I can’t keep asking myself that question.

I want to smash something. There’s a rage inside of me from being ignored, hurt, disregarded, and belittled. Yet, I won’t even allow myself to cry or show anger. They don’t deserve to have hurt me. Stubborn to my very core.

3 thoughts on “Smash

  1. I’ve broken before. Here’s the thing. You are having your own experience and everyone around you is having theirs. Yes, your world overlaps with others, but the overlap is often interpreted differently by each person that’s in the overlap. Does that make sense? What i’m trying to say is that when the anger takes over, try to consider that their reactions or lack thereof to you are more about their experience than yours.

    I go through times when I’m really upset with my family for how they pretended my mother wasn’t sick for many years when I was a teenager and living at home with her episodes and destructive behavior. But now that I’m an adult, as I’ve told you on Black Girl Cry before, my family members sometimes go through things that I, quite frankly, I can’t handle so I pray for them and send love and positive vibes their way and I keep it moving. Not because I don’t love them, but because I’m trying to hold my own head above water and I have to decide who I can save and who I can’t save so that I don’t drown myself in my efforts to keep them from drowning.

    1. Excellent point. My current dilemma is how I even begin to communicate my feelings without doing so in extreme anger. Their opinions and beliefs…well I’m refusing to let it affect my following my heart and knowing what’s best for me. The stress of the anger has taken a toll on me physically, I’ve been sick and sore like since Thanksgiving. I’m going to get it sorted out though. And I’m going to continue my life 🙂

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