Right, so I totally left my cover-up at camp. Or at least, I went to camp with my cover-up, put it on every morning, but did not come home with it. It sucked because all this week, I haven't been able to cover up the zits on my face or heal them (I use a blemish healing concealer). Anyway, I finally bought some new cover-up Friday, but I feel like it's too little too late. I mean, I dealt with people all week without it. I dressed up and dressed down and did clinical and presentations without my cover-up. By the time I had some, it seemed ridiculous. I mean, I put some on Friday afternoon, but I couldn't figure out what the point even was. Everyone had seen those blemishes all week, surely they'd know I covered them up. Heck, I'd had most of my interactions for the week, I was just gonna be chilling all weekend, why even bother? Well, I can't say I answered that question really, but I did put my cover-up on. I told myself I did it for myself. I wanted to look good for myself. I wanted to look presentable and polished and put together for once this week. I still felt like it was pointless, but I figured it might make me feel a little better, and I suppose it did for a while until my tears washed it away...again.
Worst part is that I could write a beautifully parallel paragraph about my emotional cover-up -- the wall I like to hide behind -- the wall that guards me...Somehow, I lost that at camp as well. Granted, it was generally compromised by the end of any given day in the weeks leading up to that trip to camp, but still, it wasn't truly absent until after camp. I'm not sure if it's because being at camp for the weekend reminded me of a lot of the things I love and miss -- passions that I'm not pursuing -- or if it's because I had some truly amazing conversations at camp. Some of those conversations were thought-provoking and lead to a re-examination of aspects of my life. Other conversations were very honest. They caused me to share thoughts and feelings and parts of myself that I generally keep locked up. The interesting thing is that I felt a lot more relaxed and a lot more secure when I got back from camp...overall. However, be it lies swirling in my head or deeper concerns I refuse to deal with, I've felt very unstable this week. I've felt like I'm feebly covering up a desire to break down. I've felt like I'm showcasing each and every one of my faults in turn. I feel vulnerable and fragile and emotionally unstable. I feel like I'm a danger to myself and others, and I mean that in a generally emotional/spiritual sort of way. I've wanted so badly to run and hide this past week, to hole myself up in my room and just cry and sleep, only leaving for class and food. However, I've tried to fight that urge. I've forced myself to go out and leave the apartment, to be around people (though admittedly not large numbers of them and generally not for extended periods of time). I've forced myself to be vaguely social, though I felt horrified the whole time and was fighting a strong urge to bail. I do apologize to those of you reading this that had to be one of my confidants this week, one of the people that I identified as safe. Hopefully, you are flattered in some way that I feel safe around you (or at least safe enough to be a little unstable and trust I won't get cut down) and that I find you somewhat calming (whether I was just feeding off your testosterone or your joy or whatever you brought to the table). Yet, I'm still sorry. I feel like a tremendous nuisance, like I took up too much of your time, was too much of a pest, and dampened your week by being your own personal rain cloud. Hopefully, you can forgive me. I know I've been bitter, jaded, and prickly this week. I haven't been of much use to any of you. I've been inept at caring and comforting and loving you. It's ironic because I feel like I've been cold and uncaring while I felt so vulnerable and mushy. I guess that's what happens when you viciously try to protect your soft parts. I don't know. This probably stopped making sense a long time ago. It probably isn't even serving its intended purpose anymore.
I meant to apologize to all of you for being such a train wreck. I meant to explain, albeit minimally, why I seemed so disconnected and unstable this past week. I meant to warn you that I'm not over the funk I've been in. I meant to tell you that I'd try to stay out of your hair.
The problem is I meant to convey all that in some witty, whimsical way...so as not to have this be to heavy or unwieldy or labored. I didn't want this to sound like I was trying to throw a pity party for myself, though I know that's probably what it sounds like...but at this point...I don't know how to fix it...maybe I'll get back from clinical tomorrow and decide that this blog serves no purpose and did more harm than good and delete it...maybe I won't who's to say? Just please, understand that this was hard to write...because it involved honesty and vulnerability...it's not a commentary on the world, it's a statement of my present state of mind/feeling...and my musings about the trouble it may have caused those I love. Honestly, if you feel I had no place posting this, keep that opinion to yourself...this is my personal way of trying to fight through the funky, depressing feelings I'm experiencing by making a feeble attempt to reach out and expose the problem (though with a dim light) instead of cutting myself off from everyone and withdrawing from the world to muddle through it on my own.