It comes in many forms.
Of course there is the physicality…sharp, dull, radicular, stabbing, aching, burning, numbing… we mask those pains. We can take something, put something on them, treat the physical pain. We give or favor whatever hurts and others see the effects of physically hurting. Our faces contort in anguish, our breathing is laboured or rapid and shallow. Some people live with so much physical pain they hide it, push it aside and ignore it.
There is pain from loss. It can manifest in a physical pain, but often it is emotional. We can lament losing anything, a job, a loved one, even something material with sentimental value.
Emotional pain shows up in bitterness and resentment. We don’t fully give of ourselves because we still feel that sting and we recoil at the thought of repeating the initial situation. Why should we give so much just to be left again? Why should we let someone else in when all they want to do is lord over us and cause us more pain?
It taints our joy with envy and doubts. We miss what was, even if it wasn’t real, and we question what will be because what we thought we knew wound up wrong. We did everything right, and still we were hurt. We completely trusted and we were stabbed in the back. We want to go back to before and stop the betrayal and go on like it never happened. Because what we had was great.
Emotional pain is anger misplaced. It’s lashing out at others for no reason. It’s taking things the wrong way and always being defensive. It’s going thermal over the smallest errors and building cases against others without their knowledge.
It’s me crying inwardly about the dumbest thing that everyone does but no one knows how much it hurts me. It’s me hating myself for being so stupid sometimes and thinking that I’ll get over it, but knowing I won’t really until I heal. Emotional pain is me holding on to that bitterness, resentment, envy, doubt and anger because it’s been part of me for so long that I don’t know who I’d be without it. It’s me avoiding situations and not allowing myself to be known. It’s me hiding who I am behind a web of illusions.
Emotional pain is me not looking in the mirror because I hate what I see. It’s turning the lights off so I don’t have to face the harsh truth. If I ignore it, it’ll go away. If I don’t notice it, it’s not really there. Emotional pain is me yelling at myself, calling myself names, making fun of myself and lying to myself.
Emotional pain is me writing this and saying things that need to be said, but aren’t talked about because no one is comfortable talking about it. It’s me trying to work through my problems and feeling so inadequate for having them when everyone else seems so perfect.
“I cannot write what I do not feel; I cannot say what isn’t real.”
It hurts so much to be overlooked, left out, abandoned. It hurts to be lied to, to be betrayed by those who were trusted.
And it hurts so much that I can’t move past it. That everytime I’m reminded of it, I’m angered and feel it fresh again. I want to make the object of my resentment hurt as much as I, but honestly, they don’t even know about it. The only person that is in pain is me…
“I’m trapped in a prison
of my own design
I’m trapped inside
My warped demented mind
You can’t save me here
These demons you can’t fight
If you kill my demons
You might take my life”
I’m fighting against the darkness, but first I must face the thing I hate the most: my pride.