Sorrow

[bluepalm]

Many years ago I wrote this poem about sorrow; about how I carried my sadness around with me.

Looking back, I feel I've carried this burden in front of my body all my life and certain events can stop me in my tracks as I come up against other peoples' expectations of how I can or should behave.

I feel it most when people ask me to participate in 'group fun', just fooling around, acting the fool, relaxing into playing group games. When faced with these expectations, I feel myself stop, I feel my body 'freeze-up', I feel my face fall involuntarily into a mask of sorrow, my cheeks lengthen, my mouth sags and I feel exquisitely vulnerable. It's a horrible, lonely feeling that is impossible to explain in the moment.

I've never learnt how to 'play' with other people. I've not learnt how to 'have fun'. Life has been too hard, too isolated, too urgent, too sad. Thoughts of death have been too present. I've not known normal family life or normal social life. And I just can't do it.

I sang for years with a very professional choir, where the very formality and seriousness of the choir protected me from this kind of expectation. It was a truly wonderful experience. However, I lost it when I moved to live in another part of my country. And now I've recently withdrawn from trying to sing with a local community choir in my new location because these expectations of group participation in fooling around and doing skits were just too much for me; which, of course, has only increased my sorrow.

It's yet another way that complex trauma limits my experience of life.

Sorrow

Spongy, black,
and surprisingly easy to hold,
is this ball of sorrow
I clasp in front of me.

Frighteningly, it seems to me
that it grows
daily,
and I wonder that
people approaching me
don't bump into it,
stumble,
and exclaim at my burden.

bluepalm

[Tee]

  I get it it's hard sometimes to be around people when they don't understand.  Sending love

[RiverRabbit]

The last part resonates with me...

...and I wonder that
people approaching me
don't bump into it,
stumble,
and exclaim at my burden.

Sometimes when I get eye-contacted, I feel like the person can see what I am thinking... and everything that I want to hide.

I also am surprised they do not "...exclaim at my burden".

[Three Roses]

A beautifully expressive poem. Thanks for sharing this, it spoke to me. 

[Heart]

Your words speak to me, beautiful and sad... Sorrow, I heard is another word for lost love... Love never had I guess also fits.  Thank you...

[bluepalm]

Thank you to all. It is healing to know my words speak to others.