A Place that is just as real, just not as brightly lit.....

Imagine that every insecurity, every doubt, every sadness, you were feeling crashed down on you all at once.  Your eyes becoming a source of unending and unyielding tears.  So lonely that you can only feel the pain of the absence of a much needed hug.  You know it is happening, you are aware of it all, and yet you can't stop it.  That nothing can ever be enough, that no one can ever be what you need them to be or do what you want them to do.  Welcome to my PMS.

Pictured below: Sorrow-Van Gogh

It happens almost every month.  It happens and I don't realize it at first.  Then comes the crushing sadness that sits on my chest.  The lump in my throat that not only makes it hard to swallow, but hard to breath.  I concentrate on taking in deep breaths and realize that taking that moment makes me weep and sob uncontrollably.  Then I pause, I think, I pull out my calendar.  I count... 21...22...23....24....25 yeah, it's PMS.  At that moment, I realize that whatever I am feeling, it will end.  I know in a day or so time, I will feel better.  I may feel a fool for how deep in despair I was over something that may look trivial in the light of an unclouded brain. I know this, and yet the despair continues.  Maybe there is a sense of relief for a moment.  I might know that this too shall pass.  But the moments, minutes, hours, days it takes to pass just seem so unbearable.

Pictured below: Despair-Munch

Perhaps you are a friend or a loved one that has been caught in my crossfire.  Perhaps maybe you will be. Perhaps you will go running before that can ever happen. In plainest terms I can only say that yes, the emotions stem from something bothering me.  It is probably nothing I couldn't usually handle, but in that moment it becomes all too clear that I HAVE to get everything off my chest. No matter how selfish, no matter how manipulative, no matter the outcome.  I know it is happening, I can't stop it, I want to stop it but, it is like verbal diarrhea. I wish there were pepto bismol for the tongue.  I know all of this, I still do it. For those of you that have stuck around for it, I can't thank you enough for standing by me. In fact, the closer you are to me, the more I need you, the more I will find myself unleashing on you. I know that I put you in in an impossible position. Nothing you do or say will ever be right or enough. Yet, I ask, nay demand, that you stay with me anyway.  It is a thankless task and as soon as I have unloaded the explosion of verbal secretions on you, I will feel terrible. I will realize what I have done, and feel ashamed that I could behave that way.

I know as I type this that many may pass judgement. Maybe some will commiserate.  I can only hope to offer you a window in to my soul in it's darkest moments.   But I have chosen to take this moment of "verbal diarrhea" and point it towards myself. Perhaps if I shine a light on the darkness inside, I can find my way out of it.   Maybe I will wake up tomorrow and regret that I posted this, but why should I be left off the hook when so many others have had no choice? I will hate looking back on this, I usually consider myself an upbeat person. It is what it is.  With that.... I click publish.