Monday, 30th May 2016
Dearest friend,
I read James’s letter from the 13th on the bus back to Galway yesterday; it was a very emotional read for me!
I find it hard to articulate how I’m feeling sometimes. It’s hard to explain to people that I sometimes need alone time to repair myself; it’s hard to express this without causing offense.
And worst of all, I know myself that I’m probably just being too sentimental; less forward and too silent, but I’m the kind of person that favourably takes feelings into account, digests the viewpoint of other people, and tries to seek a balance of understanding the best I can.
I know myself, as you are my witness, that this habit is causing more weakness than strength of character; it puts me on the path of leading others to more confusion as to where they stand with me, as I lose all sense of true feeling by pleasing others.
That’s just it; I act one way (portray deep affection) and feel the other (as though I’m inferior of meeting people’s expectations). Even when the intention is good – especially when it is good! – do I doubt myself earning such treatment, and come to feel guilty and speculating; why are they being so loving, giving and taking me in earnest? What did I do to deserve this?
It’s always a case where I want to be the giver and expects nothing in return; I’d happily change lives and require only good results: knowing I make people happy. To me, this is all that matters…
But when I’m on the receiving end and given the world of another, then I cry inside and ask myself why. Why did I come to deserve such amazing love and care? Surely, it’s a trick…
This voice has been with me since I was a little child and showered with affection from Nanny G; I’d ask myself if it was just a test to see if I was soft.
Really, this doubt and heart-break has grown up with me; how am I to expect changing myself if it’s all I’ve known to remain on safe ground?
James, with all his insights and wisdom, has brought me to contemplate many of my learned behaviours – and to see it with new eyes. Not bitterly, but with true compassion. He has certainly helped me with that…
The only person in control of leading my destiny is myself – and I must decide whether that be good or not… People really can be beautiful; it’s not just my imagination, people can mean good in their deeds and do things out of the goodness of their hearts!
In fact, people can vary but there’s nothing wrong with that; not everything is predictable like we’d want to – and we can gain comfort in mystery, and learning…
Coming to terms with this aspect, and counting my blessings, really helped me not feel so terribly alone… For once, this wasn’t your usual phase of young contemplation – where it’s a case of sulky mood-swings; this feeling towards self-reflection was much deeper and a place I recognize myself at my most vulnerable.
Because I’m not a person who intentionally means to bring anyone harm; I only know what I feel – and that is a great sense of loss…
The way things stand between my family and the past really does affect me deeply, and I’m not one to sweep problems under the rug and play hunky-dory, especially when the reality is spoken with bitterness and treated in a hush-hush manner.
This type of behaviour just makes everyone feel more uncertain and beaten-down… I feel, although there’s been closure in some respects, as a family there’s been more damage than the sense that things have been resolved!
Maybe that’s just me. If only everyone weren’t so distant – as I have the feeling I must force myself to get their involvement in my life…
Why do I never get a sense of unconditional love on their end?
A part of me knows that I expect too much and say too little, and that is the trouble.
The thing is, I don’t know how to ask without seeming like a complete idiot – since I know my own part of withdrawing from family life hasn’t helped matters, either.
The truth is: I’ve always been afraid to ask of anything, because a huge subconscious part of me already predicts the judgement and disapproval I was so used to receiving…
I acknowledge that some of my doubts are a source of habit brought on by depression, but for most part I believe it’s a case of truly absorbing one’s harsh reality and only wishing they could change things for the better.
Although these outbursts for expression seem vengeful or possibly selfish, as I know I haven’t exactly painted my family in a positive light – because I only really can speak for my own feelings and impressions on life – deep down I hold them dear in my heart and soul.
They mean very much to me… I just desperately wish things could be different – and that the unconditional love, which I’m sure is there, might finally show itself…
I can’t tell you how much I need their love right now.
I dream of such things – that it could be just as accessible as adults, but I suppose that’s a bit too needy, for I require something I know myself too afraid to expect from someone!
This reality is a struggle for me, and I wish I could be different – but this is where I know James to be wrong. I’m not a strong person with a heart of gold; actually, I’m weak because I know I’ve been chasing something out of my reach: true mutual love…
Perhaps I’m unable to accept the magnitude of love, but I’m certainly able to do one thing that makes me immensely proud – and that is to cheer others up and make them happy!
If one can do that, then that makes the inner struggle all the more worthwhile and beautiful – for I feel satisfied enough if I can leave a positive effect on people.
As far as my concerns for family go, I hope I reach a stage in my development as a person to be more willing and compassionate with my approach, and less hardened or insensitive – because, despite all my emotions attached to it, the intention for everyone has always been from an expression of deep love and care…
I hope one day they may see that!
Yours always,
Jay.