I don’t want to talk about it

Very few things have ever made me feel broken – the death of my parents comes to mind.  Though I complain, whine and get very discouraged, I always know there is a rainbow out there waiting for me if I can only wade through the mirth to get to it.  The only thing that would have real power to break me would be if something happened to my child – I don’t think I would live through it.

I am a strong person – fun-loving, caring, adventurous, and daring.  I am also a handful – I know that.  I have a hard time with many human emotions.  I also work hard at always being in control of myself: to smile when I’m hurt, to laugh when I want to cry, to pretend things other people do don’t get to me, and to pretend I don’t care even if I do.  I used to have issues with rage – going into a blind rage destroying or at least bruising everything that had the misfortune of being in my path.  I have learned to control this by defusing the situation before I get to the point of losing control.

I have been in the position where my safety has been at stake – mentally and physically.  I know what it feels like to be helpless against an adversary who is stronger and brutish.  I can be stubborn, pig-headed, indifferent and cold. 

My life thus far is a kaleidoscope of events and emotions that have included much beauty, a lot of love, and years of happiness. 

All this said, if the sun doesn’t come out soon – I’m going to lose my freakin mind.  They will find me curled in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and talking gibberish.  😦

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