The Fault In My Heart

The Fault In My Heart

Growing up, there were a lot of times that I didn't understand my emotions. I would say something innocent to my mom and immediately she would ask what was wrong. When I claimed nothing, she argued, saying that my tone told her differently. 

I never intentionally lied about my emotions; I just didn't understand them. That's part of the reason I was misdiagnosed with several different mood disorders. I would be happy for no reason, crying without knowing why, anxious over not knowing what I was anxious about... I could never just know where my feelings were coming from.

Over time, this went from a mere annoyance to a new source of pain for me. I felt like I was going crazy. I had mood swings that I couldn't explain and worst of all, I didn't always even know what my mood was. 

So I started doing something that seemed so brilliant at the time, but makes me feel stupid every time I do it. I started trying to create reasons for my emotions. 

On an emotional day, I'll lay in bed in my pajamas and watch a depressing movie; A Fault In Our Stars or A Time For Dancing for instance, so I can blame my depression on missing Carol or RJ (or just the beast that is cancer in general). If cancer isn't the special of the day, I'll watch pretty much any Lifetime movie, knowing at least I'll have an excuse for my tears. Do the actual reasons behind my emotions lead me towards the various categories of movies? It's very possible but I may never know. 

If I'm feeling anxious (and I have the free time) I'll choose a book to read. Sounds like a good idea, but my book choices tell another story. I'll grab My Sister's Keeper (a choice typically reserved for medical related anxieties) or Lucky (a choice reserved for emotionally related anxieties). I'll grab The Jaycee Dugard Story to show myself how lucky I am to have lived the life I lived. I'll grab a Monk book to show myself that in comparison to the fictional Adrian Monk, my obsessions and quirks are NOTHING! Again, this may seem harmless but after each bout of "coping" I realize just how ridiculous it all is. 

So why open the floodgates and allow the emotional movies and books in? In a way they make me feel normal. I can explain why I'm crying if a character has just died a similar death to someone I loved. Unfortunately, this is a band-aid, and a poor band-aid at that. At some point, I have to learn how to understand the causes of my emotions. I can't keep "creating" reasons for how I'm feeling. By doing what I'm doing, all I'm doing is failing to deal with the true problems. 

...That's the fault in my heart.