When The Smoke Clears

I inherited a wonderful gift from my father - the gift of reading people - their thoughts, their emotions, their reactions to events and other people. Some people learn how to do this by sitting in a classroom. Others of us were blessed with the gift from God. The ability comes from forming an unspoken connection with someone - it can even be a stranger - but it is most strong with someone you know that links you on such an intimate level that no one can ever see or most likely break. Great friendships can develop from these links. But even when you don't become the best of friends, there is the unspoken connection. People are drawn to you like a moth to a flame. I'm not trying to build myself up here as some rock star that groupies fawn over. I don't have an entourage. I have a small group of very close, great friends, but I have a very large circle of good friends that spans the country, all of whom I would fly to at the drop of a hat if they need something, and vice versa. It's that unspoken connection.

So why am I telling you about this? I actually had this blog written earlier, but there was an error posting it, so I've had to re-write it, and now it's of course longer. So I hope you're not already bored. But as a big reason I started this blog was because it was cathartic for me, not for your entertainment, I could really give two shits. Pardon my French. And please read on if you like. :)

This gift I received from God has allowed me to help a lot of my friends over the years. It has also caused some problems for me, I won't deny it. But that's another story for another time. Being so connected to people means that you feel what they feel. The good things that happen in their lives have a tremendously profound affect on your life. On the flip-side, though, the bad things that happen to them can bring your world to a crashing halt, too, without any warning. They may be feeling the emotions of one person, while you are feeling the emotions of many. I'm sure this is sounding weirdly selfish to anyone else reading this unless you are the same as me, but when you are feeling your own pain and sorrow, plus a little of his, and a little of hers, and a little of that guys, and it all starts to build up - it's pretty overwhelming. And if you don't have an outlet, it can be downright dangerous.

I have been dangerous lately. I recently lost a friend of mine, and I haven't found my outlet. I empathize with Mt. Etna. - steaming all day, bubbling with fire and heat, waiting to explode. You may think I'm talking about anger, but I'm not. That's what most people refer to when they make a volcano comparison. I'm talking about raw emotion. My closest friends and family have always known me to be a very emotional person. When I was a senior in high school, about once a month, I'd lay on my bed and have a good, long cry, and my mom would hold my head and stroke my hair. You may think that this just sounds like silly adolescent girly hormone problems, but it wasn't. This tradition was carried over into college, where my friend Shae took over where Mama left off, though she didn't stroke my hair, but rather she'd sit on my bed and give me a hug when I was done. Why did I do this? Because when I was done crying, I felt a massive surge of release. All of the stress that had been building up inside of me, any anger I had been harboring, any sadness I was feeling - it all came flowing out of me onto my pillow in that 30 minute sob-fest. I don't know when I stopped this tradition, but I think I need to bring it back into circulation. It used to be my outlet, and a very healthy one at that. Much better than alcohol or punching a wall or screaming or something. And so much better than Prozac. I've just been on the verge of crying about anything and everything - and I mean everything since my friend died a week and a half ago. I'm exhausted. I've been angry and wanting to yell at everything. So if you'll excuse me, I think I may leave work early today, go home, and soak my pillow for a little while.