TheRealSharon's Blog











The title of this post is a line from the Papa Roach song, “Scars”. Every time I’ve heard that song, I feel like I can relate. I guess I inherited it from my mother because everyone tells her that she wears her heart on her sleeve. If someone cries around her, she feels the sorrow and cries herself. I am JUST like her in that way and it really does leave scars when you care so much about things.

When someone I deeply care about hurts me in any way, I don’t just temporarily feel hurt and move on. The pain sticks with me well beyond the point it should. I let things people do and say tear me completely apart and I over analyze and just become so depressed by it that I can’t focus on anything else. I try to just get over things and move on, but little grievances instead become like a bullet shot straight through my heart that I just can’t seem to fully heal. There’s things from my past that I still can’t get over. I have nightmares to this day about how people have used me and things people said to me that dug deep and it’s like they are on auto repeat in my head. It’s a tough thing to deal with wearing my heart on my sleeve and I dread how much my emotions could possibly increase one day when I get pregnant. If there’s such a thing as being any more emotional than I already am, then wow….It’s going to be hard to deal with me, I’m not going to lie!

There’s positives, though. I never use the words “I love you” unless I truly mean them. I’ve NEVER been able to use them flippantly. I take the words very seriously so if I tell someone that I love you, you can know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I mean it. And I might care too much for the people I love, but isn’t that better than not caring at all or not caring enough?

I guess another side of wearing my emotions close to me is that I’m very honest…too honest at times. If someone close to me hurts my feelings, I will let them know. I try to let them know in the most nicest way I can, but I let them know. Sometimes I worry by letting others know that they may think I am crazy for getting so worked up over something they might think isn’t as big of a deal as I do and then I second guess myself and wonder why I said what I said and didn’t just let it go. But from past experience, I have held things in before and not let people know that things bothered me, and what happened THEN was being so depressed from keeping it inside that the depression took over my life. When that happens, I cry in public randomly for no exact reason. I lash out in anger over something that I really DON’T care about because the truth is, I’m still hurting over something from a long time ago that would be crazy to bring up this late in the game. The things I love to do stop meaning as much to me and I spend my days in a deep sadness that leaves me feeling like I’m drowning.

So this is why I know speak up and let people know as nicely as I can…..they MAY think I am overobsessed with trivial matters or crazy but the alternative is so much worse for me. I care, I care too much, but I care and because I care, I HAVE to let people know when I think something isn’t fair, when something has hurt me deeply or just when I miss them so much that they are on my mind every second of every day. At this moment in my life, the people I love the most are growing up and going their separate ways and I am feeling a great loss. I know people have to move on but that doesn’t lessen what I feel when they do. I feel like some of the people I love are moving on without me and are leaving me behind and I find myself in tears over that loss. I can’t even imagine how I’m going to feel one day when I have kids and they move on. That thought is unbearable when just the idea of other family members not seeing me as often feels like my heart is breaking. Is that feeling normal? I don’t know……but it’s tearing me apart and I just wish I didn’t care so much.



Boundaries

 

Stitch scars from a fall 7 1/2 yrs. ago

When I looked up the definition of Boundaries, I got “something that indicates bounds or limits.” At first when I considered the theme, I, at first, thought about physical boundaries or dividing lines between spaces or land. After giving it more thought, I realized that boundaries could also be mental and emotional lines that “bound” you or restrain you. Boundaries don’t always have to be visible to everyone. They can also be in your head controlling you, keeping you from doing something.

The reason I chose the picture I did is not because the scars represent a boundary to me. I chose to take this picture because the scars remind me of an invisible boundary that affects me very much.

August 21st, 2003. I was leaving one of my best friend’s houses and as I walked down the 3 or 4 steps outside, I fell. It was the 3rd time in my life I had fallen down stairs but the worse I had gotten from the other falls was a torn ligament in 8th grade. This time, I attempted to get up, heard a crack, my right foot gave and down again I went. Turns out I ended up having a broken fibula and a detached deltoid ligament….from falling down a couple steps!

I had to have surgery and get a rod placed in my foot, otherwise, the tiniest fall and broken fibula again. I was in the hospital a couple days after the surgery and all I remember is waking up from nightmare after nightmare. I would sleep awhile and then dream of myself falling down all over again and then jump awake. The pain after my surgery was horrible. I tried to describe it to my mom as someone ripping off my skin around my ankle and nailing it back on, over and over and over. Probably why I had a button I could push every 15 minutes for morphine. Believe me, I tried to push that thing more than that but it wouldn’t go off until 15 minutes had passed. I never knew 15 minutes could be so long!

Anyways…back to what my accident has to do with boundaries. Since my accident, I have been deathly afraid of stairs without railings. At first, even stairs were hard but I got over that. I know it’s a mental thing because if there’s a rail, I can leave my hand to hover over it as I walk up the stairs and only grab if I feel it necessary. But even though it may be a mental thing, it still feels impossible for me to overcome.

I have had so many people act like I’m crazy when I get scared to go up stairs without railings. I try to explain but they just don’t get it. They think I’m ridiculous and should just get over it. What they don’t realize is nothing they can say to me is anything that I haven’t already told myself. I give myself a really hard time about it and I don’t even understand it myself. I’ll stand in front of the steps and think about stepping up and it’s like this force that I can’t understand stops me. It doesn’t help me at all when I consider that if I fell down stairs again, there’s a very good chance I would break something again.

I guess I could have taken pictures of stairs without railings but I don’t believe that the stairs are the boundaries I can’t cross. My real boundary is the mental aspect and I can’t exactly take a photo of that. I CAN take a photo of something I see and live with everyday of my life that reminds me of my boundaries though.

It’s not the greatest picture but I believe this theme, for me personally, has been about more than a picture. It’s been about talking about a very real fear I have and how I would like to be able to overcome it someday.

 

 



et cetera
Everything Mommyhood

Travel | Family | Deals | Beauty | Food | Life

Worldwide EndoMarch

The Global Endometriosis Uprising

Waiting for Baby Bird Ministries

infertility, miscarriage and pregnancy loss

Worth the trouble

“He couldn’t see why people made such a fuss about people eating their silly old fruit anyway, but life would be a lot less fun if they didn’t. And there was never an apple, in Adam’s opinion, that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.” ~from Good Omens

Under Reconstruction

Hope isn't an emotion, but a daily choice.

Thought Catalog

Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.

The Ideal Me by 24

Smile! You’re at the best WordPress.com site ever

Becoming Cliche

My Journey to Becoming My Mother

My Trousers Rolled

"I grow old...I grow old...I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled..." -- T.S. Eliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

More Cabaret

Class, Sass, and a Lot of Ass

Book Lovers Buffet

Load Up - You Won't Gain a Pound!

re-Education

Ideas about English, Drama and ICT in the classroom, as well as some broader musings

readful things blog

The search for meaning, one page at a time

101 Books

Reading my way through Time Magazine's 100 Greatest Novels since 1923 (plus Ulysses)

Body Rebooted

On the road to optimal health!