Defense Mechanisms

As mentioned before, I still struggle with the fucked up problem of being so greatly self aware and yet so powerless to stop myself from repeating the same patterns. Today I found a way, obviously a stupid way, to antagonize my friends during our final days of what has been an amazing trip to an amazing country.

To say I have issues would be to beat a dead horse at this point so we'll skip that and jump right to it. I am literally a textbook example of defence mechanisms. I just cannot find enough security to allow too close of a bond between myself and literally anyone. I even keep my best friend at arms length though I'd never admit that to her. Once I feel like people are too close I have to find a way to cut the rope, and it's like watching myself do something stupid in third person every time. Like I'm not me, but someone else watching through my own skull.

Eventually I will try to explain myself in an abstract way and hope they get the picture. Or I'll do it sarcastically and then negate any pursuit of clarification or understanding of the "why". Maybe because at this point the why is lost to me. Maybe after all this time I can still list off 100 reasons why I'm a rotting mess, but I no longer feel like that list justifies my actions.

I have a lot going for me. I know in theory everything is good. I can't, however get that one part of my brain to stay on that same page and sitting here on the balcony of an air bnb in Tokyo, NOW is when I truly realize and understand how Eliot felt her last few days. How every piece of the puzzle can be there but it feels like solving it is impossible. How feelings outweigh facts and how true, uninterrupted peace is scary and uncertain, but at the same time the strongest temptation.

It seems like a small thing. Like the situation with my friends can be easily resolved, but I don't feel that the weight that this type of thing has on me can really be explained or understood fully. Eliot was the only one who could genuinely understand and I've lost that outlet.

I'm sorry to everyone who I've told I would talk to when it gets bad. The thought of you knowing and not being able to understand is, to be frank, terrifying. I'm sorry I said I promise to go to you when I'm feeling like this, but if I don't feel you will perceive it the way I need you to the uncertainty and fear of how you will think of me afterwards will do severely more damage.

But my resolve is strong. My defence mechanisms at the very least offer me the mental shelter equivalent of a blanket fort, and for now that's enough to get me by. I am a victim of myself and have no one to blame. No one should be hurt by this other than me. No one should bear this sleepless, mind boggling, negative sack of shit torch but me. I guess it's good that I'm not afraid of fire.

Yesterday I was hit with the harsh reality, gravity and  consequence of being pushed past one's limit. I lost someone very dear to me, someone with whom I've both shares ups and downs with and had ups and downs with. Over the past 24 hours sorrow, guilt, and fear took hold of me and damn did they grip hard.

Sorrow:
She was a friend. A good friend. We've been through trying situations with each other and we've shared much with each other that we couldn't share with others. We understood each other and we respected eachother for our battles. To lose someone like this in your life is to lose a piece of the puzzle. To see the light grow slightly more dim. Beyond this she was a wonderful being, so full of passion and heart and light. There was something so true and so genuine about her that it inspired me. Sorrow is the only word to describe this feeling of loss.

Guilt:
Because of our relationship she had reached out to me a few days prior to her departure. What began with my genuine need yield her through her difficult time quickly escalated to me trying fully not to panic and what in the moment felt like saving her life. As our conversation went on I began to fully understand the point at which she stood. She had hit her wall again, but no longer could she find the ladder over it. I threw a rope with everything I had in me compressed into its threads. I thought it had been strong enough, but maybe I could have done more. The guilt was unbearable. I'm sorry.

Fear:
We were one and the same. Two fish in the same pond and it frightened me. Depressions and anxiety are more fearsome than any fairy tale monster. The pain is not always tangible and the ache exists beyond the realm of description. Have I hit my wall before? Yes. I've always found my ladder. Until that night so had she. What changed? Can the same happen to me? Will it? There is no greater fear than knowing what may become of you and knowing that in that moment all control you thought you had, all the fight you thought you had is forfeit.

What have I learned from all of this? Sorrow is the only one of the three that I did not create for myself. The guilt and the fear are my products, manufactured solely within myself. The grieving process is tiresome, but enlightening. You bring questions to the table when you start and you begin to answer them yourself towards the end.

Where am I now? In a state of recognition for the beauty of life. I am thankful for what I have and am thankful for the excitement that exists for tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. My ladder is still there and stronger than ever. My conscience is clear. My heart still feels the hurt and the sorrow, but that's ok. I lost a good one. We all did.

Rest in peace, Eliot. You gave me more than you could possibly know and I know we will see eachother again.