If I hear those 2 words again, I will claw my face!

Guess what...?

I DON'T WANNA PLAY NICE!

I don't wanna stuff my feelings and emotions (good,bad or mad) down inside anymore. I have done that for much too long. Time to let 'er rip.

I don't wanna suffer in silence, putting on a fake smile that says to the world, "I'm fine", or "It's okay".

I don't wanna roll over and play dead!

Guess what else...? I am a real flesh and blood person, not a robot. Cut me, I bleed, hurt me I cry.

For many years I lived my life under the radar and grew comfortable with being invisible.

Harsh words screamed in my ear over and over and over and over, even though I didn't realize it at the time, got inside me and grew, until finally that is who I was.

When I was mentally/emotionally hurt by others, I kept my mouth shut.
When I was sick or in physical pain, I kept my mouth shut.
When I was screwed over and walked on, I kept my mouth shut.
When I was stabbed in the back or heart, I kept my mouth shut.

Why...? I didn't want to drag others into my pain....didn't want to disturb or intrude....Didn't want to make others feel bad or guilty...Even those that had hurt me.

Why...? Because they might get upset or angry. Because they might walk away.....Because they might think I was silly....Because they might sweep it under the rug....Because....Because....Because....

That was then.....This is NOW. Emotions don't always come out in a neat little package. Sometimes they come bursting forth like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Other times, they arrive in somber little drops of water that roll down your cheek.

I DON'T WANNA PLAY NICE!

I don't wanna protect others feelings at the cost of my own. Why should I....? Why should I smooth it over and make it alright just so someone else won't feel guilty about hurting me? Why should I take full and complete responsibility for the actions of others?

It would be very nice if all these long and deeply held emotions, could surface in an orderly manner. But they can't, not always.

At times, I can get a grip, and sort them out by writing...Other times, it may be verbal and on certain occasions it has resulted in bon fires and beheading of Beanie Babies.

This came from a dear friend:

"Sometimes it is easy for us to disregard our own feelings for fear of upsetting somebody else, because that is what we have done our whole lives..."

When I read that, it hit home in a major way because that is exactly what I have done. I have disregarded my own feelings and emotions, for fear of upsetting another person, numbing myself to the pain.

I married a man that I did not exist to or for (until certain "needs" reminded him that I did in fact live and breathe). A man that never, ever saw me. He made no bones about my level of importance, and for many years, I told myself that I was on the bottom of the list, when the truth is, I wasn't even on the list to begin with.

We could spend an entire weekend in the same house and perhaps only speak 25 words directly to one another. Something and someone else was always more important than our "family".

When my Mother died and I was consumed with grief, he was too, "busy" and "tired" to concern himself with me.

One specific Saturday night resounds in my mind. Just a few weeks after the death of my Mother, he was in the bedroom, and I was in the living room reading when I started to cry. He got up, eyes blazing with anger,rage and hate, cussed me out (which was nothing new), told me I was keeping him awake and to "shut the f**k up".

I retreated to the den, far away from the master bedroom, curled up on the sofa and tried to be quiet. Before long, here he comes again more angry than before.

It was right before Valentine's Day, cold, so, I put on my coat, went outside and sat in the car. There was no way I could disturb or bother him. Or so I thought. A few minutes later, he jerks the door open, calling me everything under the sun.

If I hadn't learned before, I learned then to do my crying and hurting when he was gone. More and more that way of life, became my reality and who I was. Before long, I could turn on a switch and not feel a damn thing.

I had friends, I could and did talk to, but never on a deep and real level. No one ever saw all of me, they just saw the parts I wanted them to see and most of it was smoke and mirrors.

I guess, I told myself that I didn't need anyone,but that couldn't be farther from the truth.

I also told myself that I was strong. And I am, but sometimes I am weak.

I told myself, it didn't matter, but IT did.

I prided myself on being loyal, and always being there for my friends, being strong for them.....but, what about when I needed someone to be there and be strong for me....?

The easy thing, of course, would be just to come out and say it, to be direct, to admit my needs. But, I couldn't, the numbed life I had lived would not allow it.

Early in the marriage, I tried to share my emotions, feelings, thoughts, hurts, pains with him. He never heard me. Always had a book, newpaper or magizine in front of him. It was never the right time. If I did manage to get him to put down whatever he was holding, he never looked at me. He looked at the floor....at the wall...at this toes....and it was always met with deep heavy, "when will this be over" sighs.

Never one to give up, I approached it a different way. Maybe I was just catching him at the wrong time, even though it seemed to me I had tried them all. So, I sat down one night while he was at work and wrote him a very long letter, telling him how I felt, how things he would do and say affected me....etc. I sealed it and put it in an envelope and presented it to him right before he went to bed. He put it on the night stand, and there it remained, untouched, unopened, unread and not even acknowledged for over 3 months! He never mentioned it, didn't even notice when suddenly it was gone. That summed up our "marriage"....and...now that I think about, me too.

I was just there, like the envelope. Something casual scribbled on the outside that didn't matter if anyone should see it. Never acknowledged...invisible. Yet, on the inside of this sealed envelope, that he didn't bother to open were true, honest feelings and emotions. After that, I never tried anymore. Not just with him, but everybody.

I poured it all into my journals.
I thought about it alone.
I would have long, mental talks with my Mother about it all.

But, mostly, and to all concerned, I was invisible and playing nice.

Not really sure where all of this came from....Well....not exactly true...I do know where it came from.

This isn't neat or in an orderly fashion...It is scattered and messy. It isn't sugar and spice and everything nice....and....maybe I should delete it, in fact, I very much want to, but, in keeping with the I DON'T WANNA PLAY NICE, title of this post, it will stand.

Later Ya'll...^Belle^