Is getting older simply an increasing number of weddings and funerals?
I’m not sure how I feel about it. And I wonder if that book is any good? I have my suspicions.
I haven’t yet hit 30. I’ve already had my fill of funerals. I’m starting to feel the same way about weddings. At least they have a tendancy to be fun…unless you count the last wedding I attended.
I cried almost the entire ceremony.
It started out because my cousin was absolutely stunning…and ended up being because I felt like a demon amidst angels in a tiny Catholic Church.
That’s some awful paranoia…acompanied by intense depression and anxiety. But that’s part of who I am at this point in time.
Weddings and funerals are like emotional hotspots. Much like airports. I probably shouldn’t be allowed to attend them because I am basically a beacon for feelings. I channel and amplify them. It is a gift, but all the while very much a curse. I’m sure any fellow empaths will understand. The rest of you? Well, you can go on believing that I am insane. It’s alright. You are probably not incorrect.
Weddings and funerals aside, I have been going through some manner of transformation as of late. It’s ugly sometimes. Quite. It manifests as all sorts of negativity.
It’s as though it must all bubble up to the surface before it boils off and dissipates. Such is the nature of things, I suppose.
I do wonder what will be left of me when I blow off all of that steam.
I do hope that I don’t scald anyone in the process.
I do anxiously await the day that I no longer have to contend with the pain and bitterness that continues to simmer beneath my skin.
Despite all of this, I do hope to attend many more weddings and funerals.