The Emotional Closet
Where unresolved pain is packed away
It's one of those days
Where pain and insecurities are overwhelming me
Where my mind travels back to every instance of painful memories
Connected to what I'm going through now.
Remembering what I gave to the situation.
What I expected from the situation.
What I got from the situation.
Or more correctly what I didn't get from the situation.
I made you a priority.
I upended my life for you.
But I have been told how horrible I was.
That everything in your life is my fault.
You robbed me of something more precious than gold.
Something I can never regain no matter how old I grow.
With the life that you're living, I may outlive you.
That adds to the pain.
Knowing you are on a path that I can't save you from.
And now that you have taken it
and the road behind you has crumbled
I have eyes on me, watching me
Testing me to see my loyalty.
Do I love you less than the day you were born?
No, I could only ever love you more.
But I haven't known who you were for half your life now.
So, honestly, I guess I am in love with memories.
Because those memories are all I have.
Anything else I don't want to remember.
That's why I have an Emotional Closet
It's jam-packed with stuff that is overwhelmingly painful
That I put in there so I could function.
They say it isn't healthy to do that.
What choice do I have?
I can let it rule my days or I can pack it away so that I have some relief.
God knows I need relief.
Today though, the door popped open, first just a little bit
And instead of slamming it shut again, I opened it wider
I stared at it all and then it came rushing over me
Wave after wave, the pain, the upset
The tears. And realizations. Lots of realizations.
So many things stolen from me. I've been robbed.
I let it happen. I did. Because in my efforts to not rock the boat,
To be respectful, to try to understand even though I didn't,
I participated. I enabled it all to play out.
And I checked out by shoving it all into my Emotional Closet
Because if I didn't, I couldn't get out of bed.
Today was a hard day. But I made it up by 1 pm
It's a weekend so no routines to catapult me through the day.
So, I just laid there with my mind in hyperdrive
Feeding my pain and anxiety.
And now it is a monster that I will have to fight to shove back into the Emotional Closet.
But I will get it there. I have experience in wrestling with it.
I always win. At least I tell myself I am the winner of those battles.
And then I find something to pour myself into.
Something that allows me to feel accomplished.
Even if it is only writing a poem to lance my wounds like today.
About the Creator
Pam Reeder
Stifled wordsmith re-embracing my creativity. I like to write stories that tap into raw human emotions.
Author of "Bristow Spirits on Route 66", magazine articles, four books under a pen name, technical writing, stories for my grandkids.
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Comments (9)
I suffer from severe depression among other things. This hits close to my heart. Thanks so much for sharing.. I look forward to reading more of your work
BIG poem with BIG TIME FEELS!
This is powerful and heartwrenching. Thank you for sharing
Good topic and good advice. A friend of mine does something similar. She uses what she calls a little box to put all the issues and fears and problems into. She puts them away. That way at night she is able to sleep without constantly worrying. Myself I just face them straight on. That seems to work well for me.
Oh Pam, I'm so sorry for everything you're dealing with 🥺 I know too well the devastation that hits when we open wide the slightly open closet door. This poem was so relatable that I started crying. I tend to cry when things get too overwhelming, stressful or emotional. And at times it helps me to feel better. So nowadays, rather than shoving things into my closet, I just cry it out. I don't know if this is a healthy substitute but kinda works for me as it gives immediate relief. Anyway, I hope you're doing better now. Hugs 🥰
That was really good.. I tend to tuck away my emotional demons. They express themselves in my writing. A friend of mine says I should use my writing to help me heal. But then I expose other peoples' secrets as well. Not sure I have the right to do that
I am sorry you are feeling this way. I hope writing about it has helped you feel at least a little bit better. Thank you for sharing this part of yourself.
Writing helps you heal. A poem or a story places things in perspective or review objectively. We only have control over ourselves, our choices, our thoughts, our boundaries, etc. The ones we love are in control of his or her selves. What they choose to do is not reflection of you. Excellent and emotional poem💖💕
I really do feel for you Pam, but this puts everything where it should be. You will come through this. Petry can help us so much.