Closed doors

I know why I don’t always like to be around people. I realize that it’s safer for me to not get too close and to hide my feelings when I’m angry or especially when I’m sad. Hide in my room, because I feel like it’s the safest place in the world. I have an entire house filled with love, laughter, and joy. Yes, my comfort is in my room. This is where I lay my head, this is where I make love, this is where my memories I feel that with my children from the time they were born and perhaps til the day I die.

I feel safe in my room. And I always wonder why. I think it’s because when I’m angry, I can simply just close and lock the door and everyone knows not to come inside. Even when I’m sad, I close and lock the door and people know not to come inside. But sometimes, do you want people to unlock the door and find me crying. Sometimes I hope they can hear me cry. To feel the pain, the shame, the fear, and the worry I have what are the things that life brings.

Even so, I know not most of them are my problems. But I empathize to the what if’s and I always think about that question, “What if it was me?“

I can say the most meanest things, and I know that what I say hurts. I’ve done so well to not yell at my children in a manner that I know it would hurt them, would discourage them, will make them fear me, I would even hate me. But I quietly cry the anger I feel inside, the disappointment I have, and just all these emotions makes me so tired. I get so tired. And it scares me.