The Darkness

The darkness is something that some of you may be acquainted with. It creeps in slowly sometimes. Other times, it bursts in... taking you by surprise. Some darkness is darker than others. The darkest darkness had descended upon our house. I began catching glimpses of it here and there. Random thoughts and actions became apparent. Before I continue, I need to explain a few things.

I'm an empath. I know, I know... Don't roll your eyes! You're probably thinking about those cliche bullshit posts you see all the time on Facebook. Well, it is really a thing. When other people are having emotions, especially strong ones, I can feel that shit in my soul. I've dealt with my own depression. I've also experienced the depression of my loved ones. I can feel it as if it were my own. Sometimes it takes me awhile to sort out what I am feeling and what someone else is feeling. I can take people's pain and negative emotion away and trade it for my own. In my mind, I feel like I should suffer over others. I feel like I can tolerate it better than those I feel it emitting from. I take it, process it, and set it free with my tears. Especially chaotic emotions can drive me to lying in the tub in the fetal position with the shower going. I enter a catharsis and begin the daunting task of healing the pain. It can be quite exhausting. An individual can also choose not to release their pain to you. If you don't believe me, I get it. I would have a hard time believing something like this if I had not experienced it myself.

My husband is a believer. He believes because of the random texts asking him what was wrong at the precise moment he was having a bad day. He believes because I would ask him if he felt trapped, before he officially outed himself to me. He admitted that he believed. He told me I was  hot on his trail. I could feel when he began to cut me off. I could feel him cutting me off so I would pry harder, exacerbating his panic that I would soon discover his secrets. I look back on some of my writing and understand more than I had during the time. I realize that my feelings were more intuitive than anxiety based.

(Journal Entries Fall 2015: "Clingy," "sexually aggressive," "reading over my shoulder," "asking if I took my medicine," "smothering," "It has nothing to do with you." These are the words you spoke to me when I came to you for closeness and affection. Are these attempts to negate feelings of perceived abandonment? IDK, but I feel horrible. I come home in desperate need of an embrace, only to be met with someone who wishes the widen the gap between us. Communication is not wanted because I will be emotional. My tears are not welcome. I am not welcome. I feel unwelcome. I feel as though a space I once inhabited unrestrained and utterly me no longer exists. There is no room for me. No place for me to seek shelter. So depressed and trying to put on a happy face and be strong. I gave of myself when you were in need. You wept in my loving arms. No such luxury shall be afforded me. I'm not quite sure what's wrong. I'm just sad in general. In a melancholy way. I can pretend to be happy well enough and sometimes I genuinely am... There is just a persisting sorrow lingering just beneath my skin... coursing through my muscles. I'm concerned that I don't know myself... or that I am playing some character who is masking the real me. Who am I? Am I an imposter? How would I even find out?)

When I speak of the darkness, I am not speaking of a literal darkness. I am speaking of a metaphysical emotional darkness. The darkness of which begs you for your life once it has you in its icy grasp. This darkness whispers in your ear and tells you things that draws you closer to the center of it's pitch black core. I am no stranger to this darkness. When I was younger, this darkness called itself my friend. That is how I recognized its insidious arrival. But it wasn't here for me. It was here for him.