DeeEl's Mo Chroí Scríofa

Cynicism And Pain

Losing a loved one.  Losing your life as you know it.  Pain enters when there is loss.  To truly grieve means you allow yourself to feel exuberant amounts of pain.  In essence, you swing open the flood gates and pain, hurt and anguish spew in.

I don’t remember the last time I fully grieved.  Maybe it was in 1981 when Grandmaw died.  I remember the pain when I went through it and how stifling it was.  Now I remember Grandmaw and I am sad because I still miss her, however, the memories are sweet.

There are so many that I have lost since Grandmaw, but I don’t remember fully grieving.  I remember the pain at the loss, but when I try to go further in my memories there is anger – so I stop.  I stop and bury the feelings.  Yes, I know everyone has a right to their feelings and they should be expressed, but not me.

To be the good one, I always desired, but never was.  I have, through the years, learned to repress my feelings.  When I was angry, I was punished.  When I would cry because I was unhappy, I was punished.  When I would be happy, I was turned away.  When I would show love or affection, I would be hurt.  So the easy thing to do was to repress.  The English have it right – don’t display what you feel.  This I can do.

I am neither a masochist nor a sadist.  I have virtually no tolerance for pain, nor do I enjoy inflicting pain, especially on myself.  This is reason enough for me not to grieve.  If I start, I may not stop at this point.  And then again, there is no one there to catch me as I fall.  So I repress.

Recently I have discovered a new tool to add to my repertoire –cynicism.  Although I am new to this concept I am finding it to be just another useful mechanism to keep from dealing with the hurt, pain and anger that keeps coming my way.  When posed with the age old question “is the cup half full or half empty?” I would always respond half full!  Now I retorted, “It’s not my cup.  I don’t care.”

I can cry. I do cry — when I am alone. I scream -– when I am alone.  I yell and fuss — when I am alone.  To bring my anger against me means much frustration. To bring my anger against others could mean they retaliate and well… So I remain angry and frustrated while displaying to the world that all is well. It has to be.  Debbie is always fine.  Debbie needs no one.  Debbie will always be fine. At least that is what the world will always see.

Pain, I am resolved, will always be part of my life.  My deductions for now are that I am only meant for pain; be it physical or emotional.  So, for now at least, cynicism is a means to escape the pain, anger and drudge of life.

Will this to become my sole way of dealing with things?  Probably not. Will cynicism always be in my life?  Probably not.  However, for now it is useful.  Maybe someday someone will enter my life and I will be able to trust them enough to let them be there as I open the floodgates and feel the pain. For now, the cup it isn’t mine, find the owner yourself.