Not Worth the Trouble

I realize I cant do this anymore.

Its close to two thirty in the morning now as I give up on going back to sleep. I was fine until I had to wake up to relieve my heavy bladder. Usually, then the rush of thoughts flood my mind more focused on aiming and no tripping. Its been like this for a while now, more lately as I try to block all of the flooding ideas trying to pull me out of a deep need to slumber to what I am doing now.

It's not until now that I realize that the thoughts in my head are the thoughts I avoid until my stomach or some other physical manifestation comes in and forces me to stop. Being two years in therapy has helped me realize some things that I constantly do. One of them is to bury my emotions to the point I can not register how I should feel until I usually run it by someone. This is a lot more frequent occurrence now that working with the Crazy Doc has taught me to open up and actually communicate, a miraculous act that somehow causes others who have known me for decades to become slack jaw in awe.

Either way, through some consistent patience not my own, I have developed the ability to actually open up and be forward with my thoughts. A feat that has reduced my reluctance on alcohol as a coping mechanism. Yet with all progress, there are some setbacks. One being that even though I am once again open to pour out what I once repressed to those I feel close to once again, I still have no means of gauge emotion. In that, Crazy Doc has been both patient and nurturing in this, allowing me to read her emotions only after telling her what I am thinking. A few times I have caused her to shed tears only to look at her shocked and wonder why she showing sadness. It's a regular thing to stop midway and exclaim that she's feeling this or that emotion and therefore I should be feeling this or that even if I feel.....nothing.

Like now. Something is bothering me and I cant go back to sleep. I have work in the morning and I can not go back to sleep. My mind flooded with thoughts that I put on the back burner for a moment of time that I can deal with them only to not be able to and only realized this when the fire starts on the stove. A stupid analogy, but even now I realize I can not tell someone that I feel this or that. I have to find an example to cause emotion in them, only now realizing that I don't have to as I realize that Crazy Doc gets it without me trying to explain something so complex in my mind.

I don't feel emotion as most and Im not as expressive. A safety mechanism that once made the timid child I once was into someone who has to hide almost everything from those who usually negate me feeling anything of the such as some sort of betrayal and not as a natural reaction to being mistreated. How I feel runs so deep that I can not understand when I am under too much stress unless my stomach churns acid or I am not able to return to sleep. If this was a decade ago, I would have taken enough hooch to numb my physical self and return to sleep. I cant do that now. I cant and I won't. Not out of some well-earned sense of worth, but because I have lost my defenses and walls and Im pretty much out in the open to be hit with its full force. Nothing pleasant in any way.

Ok, so why am I feeling this way. I finally get to the point of this as much as I hate going around, in some attempt to give you some insight and plead my case because I never think my thoughts or feelings for that matter are legitimate or worth the trouble. I don't think Im worth the trouble. I've been shown that I am not worth the trouble. I have had many an interaction to prove to me that I am not in any way worth any trouble. Im not only not worth the trouble, but Im not worth the effort, the attempt, the intention, and the bother. If there is anything my experience on this planet has taught me is that I am not worth anything. In some twisted sense, I almost can place that measure in with an inch being 2.5 cm. It's a mathematical given and an assumption that has more proof than most scientific theories. I many times believe gravity will work, but I know I am worthless.

When I say worthless, Im not being emotional or even hurt. I've already proven to you that I already have difficulties gauge what I should think I feel much less feeling it. And when I go get hit by an emotion it's usually hard and fast as in knock me to my knees and cause a flood of pain that makes me yearn to not feel. No, when I say I am worthless I am saying that in a measurement of time by the extent of action, I am not a priority nor do I have any monetary value. If I had any ego I would use the word is priceless, but Im as valuable as a happy meal toy at a garage sale.

Yet that is not to state that I am not able to produce value. I have always considered myself a verb instead of a noun because of this. My importance is tenfold when I do, but not at a state of rest. I am amazing when funny and social. I am sweet when I care and support others. I am thoughtful and extensive in my methods and actions. I can awe, woo, inspire and cause happiness when I am doing what I do best. I get that. But I have no value.

I say this because there is some sort of function at work, a graph much like the Uncanny Valley where I am worth something to people when they meet me and I increase in value when they get to know me closely and even worth some great value, much like forgotten and safe blue chips that will always earn you some return if you only let it and ignore it to do so, sight unseen. And yet, there is a plummet. There is a sheer drop where people find me the most important person in their life, usually after they have been into their cups, and they are to the point where they have to in some way or another express that only to allow sobriety to detoxify that sentiment with their induced alcohol poisoning.

It would be hilarious if it wasn't so tragic. Or predictable. I am usually one to laugh at a clown falling down the stairs and even roll on the ground holding my sides as said clown has broken their neck and lost all means of life. There is something almost satisfying about watching a train wreck happen as you laugh at it. It's a morbid pleasure. It's that cosmic joke that seems to pile on and keep hitting you in the same place causing a bruise and pain after so many times. Its that choice you make either break down into madness and woe or to laugh at the audacity of the moment that somehow makes it all too vulgar that the same wound, the same nerve, the same whipping boy, the same punchline to the tired joke just goes with almost a distinctive yet faint sound of sad trombones going wah waah.

So yea. I'd rather laugh.

And yet, this happening has caused me to feel something after so many years.....emptiness.  It is a wretched sensation. Something I never felt even when contemplating my own death. Its a horrid drop of gravity that makes you feel hollow in a T.S. Eliot sort of way. A plastic and fake discernment that you are not real and that you never were. That between tangible human and legend you have become flimsy and fragile, almost porcelain cracked from so much mistreatment, wondering if a strong enough breeze can cause you to crumble. That feeling is prevalent now. Its something I can not ignore and something that highlights how broken I am.

I can not explain it to you. If the action you take in giving a gift or flowers or any token of sentiment to another human being that causes a bond, an attachment towards them all I can say that this moment and the cause of it has made me feel hollow, distant and reclusive. It has made me want to pull away more than I already have. It causes me to make opposite effort to wall myself off of the world and to shut myself to others. Not having worth would be freeing if I had my protections and walls, but I don't. I only have an ill sense of not being able to find enough peace to close my eyes and let sleep take me.

I cant gauge how you are reacting. I cant really feel this moment either. Yet I can contemplate that I am worthless again. And yet, it doesn't feel right. It causes me to question why for once. I never declared myself anything important or even special. Odd maybe, but never special, not even in a Raph Wiggum sort of way. Just worthless. But I can not comprehend the actions beforehand. Am I elusively important.....do I shine enough for someone to stumble and make themselves known in grand gestures only to be examined closely and tossed aside. I don't know. I honestly don't.

Yet, I can say my curiosity is tickled. And come Tuesday I won't hold a front against trying to find those answers anymore. I won't tell Crazy Doc that I don't care if I don't find out why others find me repulsive or worth to be placed forgotten on a shelf next to dead plants. I think I want to know now. If only to make it stop. To be truly worthless. It doesn't hurt that someone has once again tossed me aside once more. It hurts that they once thought I was worth picking up.

That's what kills me.