maybe we all need help?

tonight, for the first time in what seems like a long time i had to cry. the kind of cry that makes you feel like a child again, and you're facing the monsters under your bed or the demons of the darkness. i sat on the bathroom floor, in the basement, knees hugged close into my chest, and just let it rake through me. i have avoided crying lately. i tend to think it is because i see it as a girly thing to do when you get upset or sad. when i've been emotional i usually become reclusive, or silent, or just indifferent, until the moment or issue subsides. but, it's been building for a while. this cry was a wash of so many emotions.

it started with my mom. i've been at home for the past couple of days, but home referring more to the house than to the feeling i get when i'm here. i haven't actually spent that much time with my mother this weekend. we met in stratford to see romeo and juliet at the festival theatre. after having dinner together at a roadside diner, we drove home. saturday, sunday, and today were spent mostly at the church, helping to prepare for and run an annual festival that we celebrate in honour of our lady of freedom. but, tonight my sister and i and my mom went to my nonna's for dinner and the drive home changed from overcast to stormy.

my mom doesn't like giving my sister too many privileges with the vehicle. i can't completely blame her, because my sister usually ends up spending more time with it than she originally asks my mom for, and rarely if ever buys gas. my sister asked my mom to borrow it for tomorrow night just as we were getting ready to leave my nonna's house - that was the cloud above our heads.

one thing that really irritates my mom is back seat driving. i admit that i hate it, too; but, i don't usually comment on anything but her speed. she tends to have a heavy foot, and regularly speeds - nothing too excessive, but speeding nonetheless. so tonight, when i asked her to slow down, her response was to speed up so that she was travelling 70 kph in a 50 zone. at a major intersection that followed, we had to turn left. as it came to our turn, a woman on rollerblades approached the road. my mom turned almost into her and had to make the turn wide into the far lane of the two lane street, in order to avoid contact. both my sister and i were surprised at her actions and vocalised the fact that we thought she shouldn't have turned, and would have found the driver to be lacking had she been in the woman's position. this enraged my mother because she proceeded to swerve the vehicle to the side of the road, inform us that she was walking the rest of the way home, and walk out across three lanes to the other sidewalk. i drove us the rest of the way, which was only about a minute and a half.

upon her arrival at home i confronted her about the driving. i told her that i felt it was better that she got out of the car because she wasn't in a suitable position to drive. i don't like pushing peoples' buttons, and i didn't comment on her driving to do that. we yelled a bit and she went to bed because she has to get up at 5am to work tomorrow. that is when i went to the basement and cried.

but, the tears turned into a cleansing for so many other things on my mind. the first was confronting how studying mental health is important to me so that i can deal more effectively with my own communication and coping skills.

after learning about my friend's silent struggle with her addiction, i had to face the reality that i use a substance to deal with emotion in my life. my substance in food. in a distorted way i figure that it is the healthiest substance to use. my body needs food anyways. it hasn't hurt me so far. i mean, i'm not anorexic - i like eating too much to stop doing it. i'm not bulemic - i hate throwing up. i binge. i manage my weight so that my food binges haven't caused extreme obesity, but i can't deny that i still struggle with my own body image.

i eat for some feeling of satiety. but it doesn't come. i can fill myself with whatever i have to snack on at the time, but i don't feel any less empty. i know it's not about being hungry, because when i can, i eat at night when no one is around. i don't like people watching, or even knowing that i am eating, because i don't want them to think i am a pig. ridiculous. it makes me sad thinking about it. although i don't binge often, and sometimes the "binge" isn't as excessive as you might imagine (it might only be having two full servings of dinner instead of the one that i needed, or eating a whole bunch of cheese and fruit and crackers while i'm watching mindless tv), i know it's not a good relationship to have with food. i'd like to think that the fact that i recognize that it's not good is half the battle. at least i'm not in denial.

speaking of denial, that was the third thing i cried about tonight. i've been avoiding dealing with the pain i'm still feeling from my break-up with my boyfriend. i think the reason it's difficult for me to face is because i think i should be over it by now, and that i should be moving on with other things in my life. he has, apparently. but, i still miss him and i still love him, and i am having trouble dealing with those two facts. as much as it was easier not to talk to him initially, because it prevented me from getting worked up over things he might say, i am struggling now with the desire to start talking to him again. i fear the outcome of doing so. he might have held on to some kind of anger towards me for cutting our ties so abruptly. if i tried to contact him he might ignore me altogether, or vehemently oppose having anything to do with me because i deserted him. he could still be hurt by what i did, and not forgive me, and thus also refuse to let me be a part of his life.

thoughts of him have been tormenting. i hear that first loves are the most difficult to let go of. i think it's because we tend to glorify them, and put them on a pedestal. people, places, and objects have been reminding me of thoughtful things he did or said to me. even sitting on the floor crying made me recall times when i needed his comfort and i just threw myself into his arms and let everything else get blocked out. i really miss having someone to get lost in, who can get lost in me. it's lonely without him. he was my best friend for that time. the person who knew what was going on in every aspect of my life. the weight of so much bearing down on me tonight made me wish that he was still someone i could call to talk to about it all.

but, instead i just sat, alone on the bathroom floor, and just let it out behind closed doors. and after, i wrote this. the act of writing it out is therapeutic in itself. but, the computer screen can't smile at me, or give me a reassuring hug. yet still, despite my loneliness, and my admitted need for consolation, i refuse to tell the people around me too much. i don't want to put my problems on them, but more i want to figure out how to help myself.

i am not an island, though sometimes i am sure i think i am.