feeling stung...

I started writing this after talking to Beloved and realizing that I was looking at my calendar and my relationships and desperately wanting to dump EVERYTHING and run and hide. As if I haven't been doing enough hiding as it is.

Songs from Nancy Ford and Gretchen Cryer's "Getting My Act Together And Taking It On The Road" plays through my mind.

That phone just keeps on ringin'
and somebody's at my door.
I feel all pulled to pieces,
can't find inspiration any more.
There's so many people leaning on me
I'm getting run into the ground.
Everybody's wanting something from me
and there's not enough of me to go around...

Damn it...I am trying...TRYING!...to regain my stride. I want to celebrate the coming of spring and I want to look forward to sharing my thoughts and feelings again. Instead, I am feeling increasingly clausterphobic. I am finding myself saying little more than NO to everyone these days. No, I'm not better. No, I am not feeling up for going out. No, I don't see you as a priority right now. (Ha! I started to say I don't want to...but I didn't!) No. NO. NO!

I always tried to please
I could make him happy
and put him at his ease.
He'd say "Smile."
So I'd smile, smile, smile...

Sometimes I feel like a selfish, whinny child about wanting...needing...my alone space. But if I don't say something, then everyone assumes I'm just fine, which I am. I'm F.I.N.E.! If only I can smile, if only I can pretend, if only I can fake it...

(Dear Tom)
you thought I was so loving
(Dear Tom)
you thought I was a saint
(Dear Tom)
you thought that I was perfect...
but I ain't...

I have been accused of playing with people's hearts, of leading people on, of being something deceptive, cruel, and evil. Maybe from one point of view, that is accurate. I feel like I can give something. An understanding ear. An ego boost. A clear mirror. Tough love. I am drawn to people who have needs that I think I can fill.

The problem that I find over and over and over again is that the need isn't really "fillable" with what I have to offer. It's like the classic addiction...the first time is amazing, the second time you need a stronger hit, and by the third time, you're hooked and can't function without it. When the supply runs dry, life as you know it breaks into a million pieces, and it's my fault for giving you that first time.

I closed you out
by asking for nothing
'cause I needed someone to blame
You couldn't give
what I didn't ask for...
It was the perfect game.

It isn't that I don't ask for anything. I do ask, and I think that initially, I ask pretty firmly. Don't expect more from me than I can give. Remember that I have my own family, my other relationships, and myself to take care of. Respect my boundaries.

I don't respect my boundaries, though. If you ask, I try to make it happen. Damn it, I am a PIXIE and I CAN make miracles happen. Just see if I can't...

Because I get addicted to your happiness, your smile, your approval, your desire. I crave the satisfaction of being the one who delivered when everyone else failed. As your surprise and delight dim to expectation and demands, I wilt under the strain. I can't... and I don't want to... fall from my lips more and more. I feel like a failure. Like a mere mortal, complete with limitations, irritations, and frustrations. I become anxious and angry and I blame you for being unreasonable. I pull away, hard and fast, and we both crash headlong into a pit of despair...

A fine mess I've made of things. Where I wrote with anger and frustration and cathartic determination, I now find myself worried about who will read this. You'll probably assume that YOU are the reason...that I am writing directly at YOU. That's not true...I am snowballing all the little individual irritations into an avalanche...no one person is to blame...it's not your fault...

Except that it is...

All I need is a little room,
a place that is fine and free.
A room where I can think to myself,
where nobody's needing me.
And then I'll find my way again,
and I will sing my song.
And I'll find the joy again
That comes when I'm feeling strong.

Like a cat who hides until its wounds are healed, I just need that room...that utterly alone space that makes me happy to be needed and wanted. *sigh* A couple of hours here and there isn't going to do it, for all that I wish it would and I am grateful for the support and willingness to make that happen...but...it isn't enough. And right now, I am scared because I just don't know where or when to find that place.

Please...please go away. Don't go away angry...but please, just go the fuck away.