Why I Don’t Say What I Don’t Say


There are a lot of reasons why I don’t say what I don’t say. Not just to you, or him or her or them. To anyone. Sometimes I bottle it up, smoke it out or attempt to work-out it off. Mostly, I write it down in my journal in hopes of finding carthasis in ink on paper. That doesn’t always work though, leaving me stuck in this limbo.

I don’t say what I don’t say because I’ve hurt many people from trying to be honest. I’m not very tactful. I honestly try to be, and I understand that it is important to know how to give nice, edifying, sandwich-style feedback, but I’m not one to beat around the mulberry bush and my idea of being “straightforward” has this tendency to cut people up emotionally. That said, I’ve come to understand that most people —no matter how nicely you phrase it for them— will still take what you say personally and internalize it, believing that you truly hate some part of them. It’s pretty annoying when sometimes all I’m trying to do is help build you up.

I don’t say what I don’t say because I don’t have the energy to argue with you. There are certain people who take my words and cry about it for months, and then there are those who are never, ever at fault. Don’t you get it? I’m not trying to cut you down or guilt trip you into anything, I’m just expressing my thoughts/feelings to you. Problem is, it always ends up with you defending yourself or questioning me to no end in attempt to get to “the root of the problem”. Sometimes, my dear darling friend, there is no “root to the problem”, it’s simply me being uncomfortable with something being said and done, and requesting that you attempt to restrain it when around me. I stopped trying to bring stuff like this up to you after awhile, because a 2-sentence attempt at conveying my thoughts is countered with a demand for a 20-page essay on Why.

I don’t say what I don’t say because you don’t listen. You hear my words, maybe even nod and smile at me after it with a “thanks for telling me that” and a hug to top it off, but nothing changes. I see no effort in attempting to change things, not for me or for you. I wait and wait and wait in hopes that you’d at least try to make things a little better, for your sake more than mine, but it seldom happens. I feel like the bulletin boards in school, heaps of effort and information on display, but completely ignored. It’s not exactly a pleasant feeling, and it’s wears me out terribly. This usually results in my not even bothering to pin a bulletin on our board, because I’m sick of being ignored.

I don’t say what I don’t say because I often blame myself for even thinking/feeling that way, whatever “that way” is supposed to mean. These notions of mine often swim in my head for hours on end, with me trying to categorize whether or not saying it would be fair to tell you what I want to tell you. These brain-swimmers are usually feelings one would consider “immature” and “silly”, neither of which I want to be, so I don’t say anything. It’s better that way. I don’t have to fret that I’m coming across as dippy, and you don’t have to know/worry that I’m being oversensitive.


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