When The Hurt Days Come

There are some days that hurt more than others, when I am reminded of the bad things that make up the history of ‘Me’.

I don’t know why they do.

I suppose it has something to do with triggers – like a bad dream, or a song or a time of year.

Last night, I had a god-awful dream, where I was battling an old foe from long ago. I was back in my home town and living in the first house I ever lived in, when I was very small.

It was just bizarre and scary. It made me wake up the next morning, wishing I could go back to sleep – partially to get some more rest as I woke up exhausted but mainly so I could return to the dream and try and win that battle I was in the thick of.

If I am going to take something positive away from the hurty days and the bad-dream-next-morning days, it is the undeniable notion that I am through with them. The events or the people that they are connected with are no longer in my way or in my life. In some cases, that is a good thing. A really good thing, in other cases, it simply adds to the pain that they are no longer there in my life.

I’ve often wondered why some things hurt, even many years later. Why can’t I just ‘walk away’ and stop hurting?

I think it is probably to do with how I love people. When I love (and I do NOT love nor trust easily these days, by any wild stretch of the imagination, some lessons have definitely been learned), I love completely. Heart and soul completely. If you’re thinking of The Notebook, Romeo & Juliet… no. More deeply than that. It transcends mortal boundaries; it takes a piece of my immortal soul, not just my heart. THAT is how I love.

So when someone breaks my heart, they break my soul, too.

It doesn’t matter how it is done: bereavement, break-up, end of a friendship, betrayal, fall-out and so on. What mattered is that in the beginning I LOVED them.

It’s a bit of a nuisance, truth be told. I hate (ironically), the way I love people. I don’t like the way I cling to the edifice of a long ago hurt, like ivy, making their life system part of my own, symbiotically.

I suppose the reason for that, is that I gave whoever it was a piece of my heart and a piece of my soul. They are non-returnable goods and I cannot stop that from being the price I pay for loving.

I suppose I can be accused of living in the past or clinging to the past and not moving on, which couples in nicely with bereavement, but I feel like I have no choice. Whoever hurt me, has a piece of me and I can’t get it back. There isn’t a way to do that.

So, I have to be realistic and remind myself of the groups: who IS worthy of my pain and who bloody-well is not.

The people who deserve my current pain, I do my best to carry on loving and nurturing that bit of me that is now somewhere else. I look at the good things and focus on those.

My Mum, my eldest daughters, three of my beloved grandparents – they are all gone now, but the pain of their loss, I can live with. I can understand and equate it into a way of living my life.

The people who did not deserve such a beautiful, precious gift are vastly more tricky. How do I expunge them? If anyone knows, please, let me know as I haven’t quite worked this out myself. I know what they are and what awful people those in this group are (and there are a few, sadly). I just don’t know how to get them out of my life. I can forget about them as much as I want – and I do – but I can’t control my dreams and that fact the shitbags crop up there and find a way of making me remember that way.

The dreams can floor me, as they pop out of nowhere and then I’m transported back to a time and a place of utter horror that I want to forget.

I hope science one day creates the whole Sunshine of the Spotless Mind erasure technology. That one day, I can go off and pay for these people to be removed permanently from my mind (ergo, my heart and soul).

I know pain makes you learn and keeps you strong, but I have enough of that in the ‘they deserved my love and therefore my heartache’ group to sort me out for life.

Who said the human metaphysical journey was a dull one?

Of course, as a writer… goldmine. Silver lining and all that.

If you feel the same as me, then take away the fact that you are not alone, or weird or, well, whatever. You’re just a deep-loving person and that is such a precious and rare thing these days. Never change.

Cat xxx




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