The Void Shouts Back

Dear Wrestling,

You ever have your therapist explain something as being good for you, necessary, so it doesn't matter if you believe it or not? Like, you need self-esteem for all kinds of health reasons, and it doesn't really matter if you think you're particularly good or not?

I really don't know how to say this, at all. It's dark and ugly and illogical and gross and I hate it. I hate it so much.

When people tell me I'm terrible, I believe them. I believe them utterly and my immediate, automatic response is that I should hurt myself.

I don't believe everyone, thank goodness. If one of my senators said it, I would laugh in his face, because they are both dirtbags and I don't respect either of them at all.

But if it's someone I love, someone I admire, someone I suspect is a pretty good person...I have not yet learned how to mediate that response. How to put it in context, how to be rational about it, essentially.

I don't know why this twisted up, gnarled knot of PTSD is so strong. There are so many I've dealt with, that don't bother me at all, it's bizarre that this one is so powerful! It is, though, and it couldn't care less how much I hate it, how much it embarrasses me and makes me feel broken and alone.

I know I've been dreadful to deal with since Sami came back. I'm really sorry. But he says how bad we are, and I want to reach for a knife. I haven't yet, not for a very long time.

The obvious answer is to sit this one out, and I've tried, I swear to you, I really did try. And I'll keep trying, but wrestling is my joy. It's my life and my love, and he is the best wrestler in the world.

I just wanted to try to explain why...just why.

Tam.