More on this.

There's been some hurt-kind-of responses to what I wrote. Last night, I was up dealing with the surface of this "coverage", examining why I have it, and wondering if it's hurtful to people I love. It's not fair that people should be honest with me and that I should always keep something up for my own protection.

I realized that when I don't talk about things, I don't feel them as much. If there's something bothering me, I can talk about it safely and make it go away. When I talk about something too much, I actually find myself creating and adding to my feelings and end up fixated on the worst case scenario.

As awful as the ice pond imagery is, here's my defense to it: I'm spared what may be a complicated mixture of emotional and death/life oriented pain. If I were not to filter this nucleus from myself, I don't think I could handle it -- let alone anyone surrounding me. I've created boundaries for my feelings because I don't think humanity can exist happily, going too deep. There's no desire to block anyone out of anything that I'm not blocking myself out of. Except Mike, and this is where I need the most work.

Last night I said to Mike: "You can never hurt me no matter what you say. I've arranged it like that since the day we got married." I said that to him when he told me very gently that he never wanted to hurt me. And (minus serious circumstances) it's something I really believe. Where it affects other people -- that's what needs the most work. Because the truth is, I'm much happier this way. (Then I wonder...but am I? And decide, yes, I really am. Then, I get confused by what I feel and what's there because this is anti-psychology).

The other thing bothering me last night was the fact that my mother has "been there" for my sister's child in a way I didn't feel she was for me. If I allow myself to feel too much of this, I will warp reality rather than looking at it from a distance and seeing facts like -- well maybe my mother realized what happened with me the first time and is trying harder with Audrey or maybe my mother really loves being in Los Angeles during the winter or maybe my mother loves working at a store that's succeeding or maybe this is like a vacation for my mom--it's just fun. So that's an example of this layer of ice. If I look through it, I can see it. When I start to feel it, the words "Benefit of the doubt" are lost, and I'm caught in emotions that map their own course.

Life and people are so complicated. I'm just trying to get through being happy. I'm starting to believe that censoring what I feel keeps me sane.