I want to precursor starting this off by saying that there is a certain amount of discomfort in these “Kaleidoscope” posts.   The discomfort goes beyond what one would think considering exposing wounds and vulnerability and falls within the realm of casting blame and throwing stones.    I don’t like it.

I know this “Kaleidoscope” series that I have begun are things you need to hear from me, but I can’t cast all the blame on your shoulders.  Your grief and depression was a separate entity that I view as something apart from you, even if my emotions can’t fully separate it from you.  Aside from that, I feel that the burden of guilt should rest not just with you, but with me as well, and how I handled things.

A Lack of Support

There were times I felt that I was slipping and sliding down a rocky slope, my fingers curled and nails digging in, scraping over the rocks.   You weren’t there, too wrapped up in your own thoughts and emotions, too distracted by your own grievances to notice I was struggling.

This, in itself, wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t come, over time, to depend on you noticing.  I had come to depend upon your observations, your obsessive watchfulness and attention to detail.  I had come to depend on how well  you knew me, and upon your quick step and strong reach that would come down over the edge of the cliff and grab hold before I could slide too far down the rocky face.

Without you there to do this, I had to find another way and I fell back upon the old tried and true habits of closing myself off whenever I struggled so that no one would be able to see I was struggling.

Closing myself off after having discovered the freedom your protection granted me created an ache of loss, and the harsh burn of resentment to fester inside.

Although a lot of my emotions are buffered right now, (tucked beneath a layer of quieting cotton, out of view and muffled), the anger is there.  I can’t feel it’s full strength, and yet there’s no denying its presence.

It eats away like a low grade acid within my gut, a mere whisper of an uncomfortable burning, always present and yet easy to ignore.  I know you don’t want me to ignore it, but at the same time, I don’t know how to dig it out and let it burn freely.  I acknowledge that it’s there. Im trying to get in touch with it.  I know you need it to resolve the hurt and bridge the gap.

I’m trying.