A Broken Heart


I have to apologize.

I haven’t written anything in a long time. That’s strange. Even in middle school, I wrote pages of text trying to make sense of my experience, to cope with the pains of living in this world.

But if I look at my Evernote writing drafts folder, my last piece was from June 11, 2013. Two months ago.

The last entry is entitled, "A Broken Heart".

This entry was written after a special meditation session where I realized all the pain, sadness, and confusion I had been holding inside of me. I realized that the root of my misery and confusion the past four years was rooted in the belief that I am not good enough, not well off enough. I have to be something more to be safe, happy, and loved. I no longer trust the world to be there for me or for my emotions to guide me.

Here’s my original, completely raw journal entry on my broken heart:

a broken heart

taking Ken’s advice to heart here. He told me to stop trying to figure it out. That the next action, the solutions were still a surface level. That the desire to quit my job was still the surface.

To have a diad with my inner voice and let it just talk to me without interfering so much

and so i did

i meditated and thought and thought and just sat and sat

what do i feel i asked myself? i touched my heart with my hand

i felt a gentleness and marveled thinking, it’s been such a long time since i felt such a tender, vulnerable moment

i thought back to _____ in boulder, of my heart exploding lying next to her and thinking that this moment was worth the entire RV  ordeal

i thuoght that it hadn’t lasted

the themes of my life. independence, abandonment, unlovable, heart break, stifled emotions

she wouldn’t stay with me and i thought it was because of my lack of sexual prowness, that i wasn’t good enough

i remembered a night. sitting in the kitchen by myself. it’s dark. i’m waiting for dad or mom to come home to take me to school for my big music choir performance. they were suppose to have already picked me up. i don’t know where john is but he’s not there. it must be elementary school, somewhere between 1-5th grade. i never sang after that. never went to choir practice after that

where were you dad? where were you mom?

abandoned, not good enough to remember, to prioritize over church or friends or whoever it was

and me having that sadness and unable to express it, not having anyone to share it with

no, i put a stone face over myself and told dad it was fine and went in my room to sulk

there was the time grandma was out in the thunderstorm, everyone looking for her. me in the house alone, terrified.

who to share with?

no one

the abandonment lead to feeling like i wasn’t good enough

and that reflected in so many ways such as getting bullied and feeling like i didn’t fit in both in school and at home

i was embarassed by my parents, so was john. their fighting. their ways.

i didn’t trust emotions, didn’t want emotions. they felt so bad

i always thought of _____ as patient 0, the original source of my trauma with girls. but that’s not right. i was scared to even tell her. i was bad well before her. why?

i didn’t really have much friends before college. god, i was the lonely kid in HS freshman year, only person to sit with was _____

i never told _____ i liked her

i didn’t even try to reciprocate _____’s feeling for me.

i cry

i’ve always been alone. no one to share my heart with.

it’s not just the fear of rejection, of humiliation. that’s definitely a big part. but also that even in the long run, i’m still not good enough. that i’d end up heartbroken.

i’m so wrecked by the idea that someone might leave me at any second. even _____ and ____ could maybe one day stop wanting to hang out with me. ____ did. _____ did.

does it go deeper? is this still the surface?


No edits except some names were removed.

After that night, I felt terrible for weeks but started finding my way back. I’ve been inviting my emotions in as a guest, as my object of meditation. And I’m feeling physically, emotionally, and spiritually better than ever.. I’m no longer relying on anything to define me, to derive my sense of value. I am just me. And that’s good enough.

Also, life is becoming very active.

Yesterday, I presented in at my Shambhala meditation group which went very well. I talked about vulnerability and my first day in Boulder exactly a year ago.

Tomorrow, I’m going to Boulder, Colorado again to volunteer at the Buddhist Geeks conference.

I can’t believe it’s been a year. I still haven’t finished writing about those three months going westward, but I plan on publishing them soon.