By: Jules Ruud
There are things that I don’t talk about. Things I have never even written about.
I learned at a very early age to store these things in a piece of my brain that I can ignore. I’m good at ignoring these things. The foundation of how I function and weave my way through life was built on ignoring these things.
Because I can ignore these things I am a happy, healthy, caring, loving, and an incredibly understanding human being. Over time I have become hyper aware of the way that I work. I am in tune with my emotions and that has made me even more empathetic of others and it has made me more confident in myself.
Ignoring these things is how I function. I like living in a world where these things don’t exist.
Every once in a while something will happen or someone will say something. My brain will flash bits and pieces of the moments I’ve worked my entire life to ignore.
I will see things that I refuse to believe. I will be reminded of a time when things were hard and there was nobody there to protect me.
I don’t know how to talk about it and I don’t know who to go to. I have avoided bringing these moments up in therapy because there are other moments in my life that I can attribute my anxiety to. Other things I can work on. Other things I don’t ignore.
The root of it all, though, the moment it started, that is a time in a life that I need to ignore.
Then I remember and I am sucked into a pit of complete self-awareness and I get lost.
My thoughts get darker, my personality changes, my voice gets quieter, and I become numb. I don’t want to be seen, I don’t want to exist. I want to curl up in a ball, hide in a corner, and sleep until it’s over. Sleep until I can ignore it again.
Life doesn’t let me do that, though and people don’t like that woman.
She is not the happy, caring, loving person that they know. She is quick to snap, quick to walk away, and she’s too quiet.
In a way it sucks because it can feel like I am not allowed to process the moment. I am not allowed to feel this pain because it makes others uncomfortable. Despite the fact that I don’t want to feel the pain, I wonder if it would be good for me to face it.
On the other hand, it helps me tuck those moments back inside the part of my brain where I feel they belong. I hide them away so that I can ignore them and so others don’t feel out of place. They are doing me a favor. They are helping ignore this longer.
It’s not healthy that I live this way, but…
It’s the only way I know how to live.
I used to tell myself that I would deal with the things I ignore once they became a burden on my life, but I got so good at ignoring them that it’s looking like I will never have to deal.
I find a sick comfort in that.
I am not a fake person, but there are things I do not share.
I pride myself on being an open book, but my book has secrets.
Not everything is meant for everyone to know.
And these things that I ignore, these are things I will never share.
Jules Ruud is the writer behind the blog, One Ruud Mom. Here she strives to find balance between married life, motherhood, adoption, and all that falls in between. You can find on her Facebook at One Ruud Mom as well as Twitter @OneRuudMom, Instagram and Pinterest.