I wrote this in like, March 2012. I’m much better, now capable of cussing you out!

“Can Not Spit It Out.”

Sometimes, I can. Most times, I can’t.

It’s a little bit hinted at in my profile, “Fight or flight” overactive, especially the “flight” part. (The “Fight” portion is a whole other post.)

I bolt. Like the bunny, like the deer. I mentally hold myself still and the instant something becomes Something I take off for cover.

I don’t know what it is. “I’m shy” appears to cover the gist of it. I could speculate til the cows come home over all the points- bullied? check. Worried about peers/fear of judgment? check-o. But there’s certainty in two points: the sometimes crippling fear of rejection and pain, and the fact I’m so restrained- don’t say what I like most of the time (until Liquid Courage steps in, and even then, it’ll take some coaxing) and try (perhaps much too hard) to have my emotions under control- I worry that if I say what I felt, I’d hurt someone- a learned thing (grew up in a household of “emotions are weak” mentality). Or I’d lose perspective.

The Restraints, especially, cause me to stop short of admitting many things.

The hell do I do once I get tongue-tied, other than keep working on it?

Push through it.

The most recent kerfunkle happened because I couldn’t just come out and say it (yes, it is the one I mentioned in the last aptly-filtered post on some other blog site: “Some angst and heartache could’ve been avoided if I had outright said so earlier.”). But earlier before that, I had mentioned I was scared, but went ahead and told her my feelings anyway- the beginnings of a sweet crush.

But I find myself still making the same mistakes.

I have to remember that it’s better to speak up- and the most important things are sometimes the hardest to say….

I also take my sweet time processing a response- mostly, wondering, if it’s the right thing to say or if I should even say it. And if it’s worded adequately.

So… that’s why I do what I do. Why I look down at my hands and chuckle nervously. Why I don’t say anything even though you could probably see it on my face anyway, because I utterly fail at the poker face trick. Why your message would sit in my inbox for over three days because I’m mulling over whether my first reaction was appropriate- or should be toned down- or should be mentioned at all- or– it goes on.

Critiquing is easy. It’s heart-matters I have trouble with.