Well, foof.

[ladysprite]

The problem, of course, with being grown up and reasonable and trying to maintain a semblance of emotional stability is having to behave in a grown-up, reasonable, emotionally stable manner. While this is infinitely more socially acceptable, it is far less emotionally filling, and it does nothing to help lance the blisters on my psyche.

I want to sulk. I want to throw things - hard, noisy, breakable things, not the nice tame stuffed animals I keep nearby to throw in a stable adult fashion. I want to say mean, hurtful things that will cut like knives, flaying people I care about. I want to make melodramatic statements and snap decisions that I'll regret later. I want to make myself bleed, just because I need some way for everything bubbling up inside to escape, and because having an actual physical manifestation of pain makes everything else so much easier to see.


But I can't. Because I'm doing my best to be a stable, reasonable, grown-up kind of person. So I sigh, and I ratchet the tension in my shoulders up another notch as I pull my fingernails out of my palm, and I tell myself that I'm fine. If I'm feeling indulgent, I'll even say something like 'Gosh, I'm kind of upset right now.' And I tell myself it'll go away over time, and won't I be happy then that I didn't do anything stupid and irrevocable? Very mature, very stable and reasonable. But it's about as satisfying as giving a starving man a photograph of a boullion cube.....

Comments

[alexx-kay.livejournal.com]

While behaving in a "grown-up, reasonable, emotionally stable manner" may indeed seem to be "more socially acceptable", I think that that's actually only true in the short-term. When you "sigh, and I ratchet the tension in my shoulders up another notch as I pull my fingernails out of my palm, and I tell myself that I'm fine", these are not invisible actions. I certainly notice them, and I presume that people who are closer to you notice them even more.

Perhaps you should consider actually throwing the tantrums you want to throw. They are an honest part of you. By bottling them up, you become Not-Becky. Not-Becky is a lot tenser and grouchier than Becky. And, frankly, much less fun to be around. If you stay Not-Becky for too long at a stretch, you may find that that is, in the long run, far more socially unacceptable. Your friends can forgive the occasional tantrum. I'm not sure that they can forgive you turning into a betrayal of yourself.