Cellophane. Shoulda Been My Name.

I'm almost afraid to post this.
No. Scratch that.
I am afraid to post this.

I've put myself out there before in this here spot before with pretty messy consequences.
But I've got to get some of this out in an attempt to clear my mind, in an attempt to work it through and let it go.
I'm hoping that when it's all said and done, I will watch it float away.
A red balloon of my irrational thoughts that I will send out in the void.
I will let them go and watch them float of into oblivion until they are the size of a pinhead and then disappear.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I had a feeling that, after a few quiet days and some physical labor, in the form of intense cleaning and heavy lifting of household furniture, that there would be an internal break.
A flood.
The dams and leveys that have been holding me back were bound to break.

Last night, in bed, it happened.
I broke.
My head ached like I've never had my head ache before.
The pain so intense.
Usually, crying is a bittersweet release.
It only hurt more to cry. Physically hurt.
At one point, I said to Rav
I feel like I am on the brink of madness.

It took me about a half an hour of crying to get out one word.
A half an hour.
To speak but a few words.
To speak the words that I so fought against.
And when I finally had the ability to speak this is what I said ( in a nutshell):
I feel like I am completely forgettable.

Being the nice guy he is and the ever-devoted husband, he of course, argued this.
And it is a nice sentiment. Really. That he says that I am not.
But it doesn't change the fact that someone feels that way.
After an entire lifetime of feeling it.
Some of it may be self-inflicted and as a result/circumstances of an ever-changing life.
Some of it may be my inability to properly cultivate relationships - in real life and out here.
Some of it may simply be residual hauntings of a past life.
Which, despite all of my personal growth and status as a "big-girl", leaves me still feeling it from time to time.

Now don't get me wrong.
I'm airing.
I'm not trying to throw myself a pity party.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a few more dull thuds of pain behind my eyeballs and forehead, I managed to get out that I believe this emotional upheaval I've been facing is a direct result of my reiki treatment.
Rav was not pleased to hear me say this. Not in the least bit.

I don't think she did this to me. Quite the opposite. It was there already. But the treatment was like a hot compress to a pimple. It just drew out what was already there.

I began discussing how I feel disconnected from my BFF, from my other close girl-friend, this here blog and the people I've been trying to cultivate relationships with, even Three Dog Night Dad.
I told him how someone once told me the reason people "forget about me" is because I am often too laid back and not demanding enough - I'm not the squeaky wheel.
I'm the one people turn to, IRL, but when it comes time for me to need someone, everyone else has vacated.
And I just hold it all in.
Until the damn breaks.
Which it always does.
And what a mess it makes.

Rav's response to my blubbering purging was that I am fiercely loyal. I am strong, independent - a giver. I give so much of myself and expect so much from myself, so I in-turn, expect a lot from others.
The problem with this, he indicates, is that most people are not willing to give back, equally.

And I see his point.
To a certain extent.

I don't give of myself simply for what I will gain in return.
I don't offer up my loyalties and my friendship hoping to gain any "extras".
I do it because it is me and it is in my heart to do so.
And for no other reasons.

Right now, it is just a lonely place to be.
And I hope that it is just my irrational feelings
that are leaving me with the impressions
of being forgettable.