Pouring My Heart Out
Posted on 2002-08-23
I went and watched Mr B play football last night. It was only supposed to be a friendly game, but the opposing team were 'playing dirty'. Why do men feel the need to totally change on the football pitch? I guess it's something us female species will never understand.
It was about 9:30pm by the time we got back to Mr B's flat. All night long he kept asking me what was wrong, and I finally decided to tell him the horrible thoughts that have been going through my head the last few days. I couldn't keep it from him any longer, he knows me too well. I couldn't pretend that I was ok any more. I'm fed up of putting on a brave face and acting as though I'm not hurting inside. I need to be miserable for a few hours. If I allow myself wallow in self pity for a bit maybe I'll 'snap out of it'.
There was so much that I needed to get out of my system I couldn't have possibly explained everything in one go. I did manage to explain to my boyfriend how fed up I'm getting of being passed from one doctor to another without any of them taking responsibility for my treatment; about how I can't stop thinking about my Dad and wondering why he doesn't care about me. I told him how jealous I am of other people my age, people that go out partying at the weekend, and about how guilty I feel guilty about many things. Guilty for having to rely on my Mum for so much, and for not being able to help her as much as I could if I was well, and guilt for putting her through this nightmare too.
I literally poured my heart out, and I found that once I started crying I couldn't stop. Mr B just held me and let me get it all out of my system. He knew I was upset, but I don't think even he realised how much until I reached breaking point.
I feel a bit better today for telling someone else how I feel, but I still wont learn. I've always been the kind of person that's bottled everything up inside, and old habits are hard to break.