by Dragon Spirit
Why do we hide inside these self imposed prisons? It’s an easy question to ask but difficult to answer. It’s even more difficult to answer when we ask ourselves that very question.
I’ve come to realize that 90%of us build our own prison walls for one reason and one reason only. Fear. Fear we will fail, fear we will succeed, fear we aren’t good enough, fear we aren’t smart enough, fear of being alone, fear of commitment, fear that people won’t accept us and so many more. (I’m not sure there’s enough time this lifetime to get through the list.) It takes us many years to understand this and many of us never do, but it is fear that grounds us and keeps bound within our own prisons.
So when I asked myself this very question, I had to take a huge step back. I had for many years been able to tell what other people were afraid of but had really not applied the same care to myself. Why? I was afraid of what I’d find, afraid I might not like who I was, and mostly I was afraid that other people could see what I saw and would shun me.
Well all I can say is that it’s been and is a slow and painful process to face and tear down the prison I built myself and every day brings a new challenge.
So what AM I afraid of? Living life as the true me. I’ve hidden so long that I can’t even remember who that person is. The closest comparison I can find is that it’s kind of like rehab for a hostage. The problem is, I was a willing hostage to the surroundings that I put myself in. I hid out in the closet and took the easy route.
Eventually the world came knocking. It’s funny how the people who need you just find you without knowing why other than they know you “aren’t like” the other people in their life. The inside voices tell me that people say (about me) “She’s nice Lady but a little crazy.” YES I AM! If crazy means being me, then I am absolutely guilty as charged.
My coming out of the sensitive’s closet started with taking one of Jan’s classes. Convincing the family was a whole other ball game and still territory I tread lightly on. Kids think I’m fun but nuts and most adults aren’t sure what to make of me. The significant other is going to be in denial a while longer but slowly (and I mean painfully slowly) there is some acceptance of “alternative methods” for helping physical ailments. That’s about as far as we can comfortably go at this point. Dream travel and “talking to dead people” are definitely out at this point in the game.
I have come to accept that I have been a broken and abused child; a by- product of alcoholism and violence; an un-wanted, un-loved and forgotten kid; a rejected and ridiculed misfit of a teenager; an outcast from most religious groups I’ve had interaction of any length with including specific individuals (none of which had anything to do with my character but only my difference from them); I’ve been referred to as the Spawn of Satan, a Witch and that Thing; and denied entry into the home of family because I had an affinity to mythical creatures. And people wonder why I stayed in the closet?
The good news is I did not become a slave of the abuse; I learned silent strength, patience and stamina; gained an appreciation for what real hardship was; learned what real friendship was and how to find it; that I can do anything I set myself to with some degree of success; and that everyone else is just as scared as I am.
The most difficult thing still remains learning to open the heart and actually feel and embrace genuine love. As difficult as being emotionally empty can be it is easier to handle than raw emotion for me. I learned how to separate emotion from almost every situation in life which has its benefits but has created many problems for me at the same time. Why is it difficult? Because it is so foreign to me, I don’t know how to handle it.
I have always said that there is great beauty in strength that we often overlook and until now had never put myself into that category. But, I have the silent strength of a quiet warrior who watches and waits patiently for the right time to show themself and accept their own vulnerability.
So please excuse my dust during the construction phase of my life.
P.S. I believe my current title is Crisis Manager with a Wicked Sense of Humor or One Wacky Chick. (And that’s just how I like it.)
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