She had always been a sensitive person, and when people mistreated her, which happened often, it felt as if she was being torn apart, crushed, and that she became nothing. The fragile tendrils attempting to reach out for sunlight, her desires for affection, respect, and connection with her fellow humans, were constantly thwarted. People made fun of her for who she was, judged her and found her lacking, used her and exploited her, and rejected her when she developed a longing for someone. So, as she grew into an adult after a lifetime of this, having it constantly drilled into her head that there was something wrong with her and that she did not deserve what she wanted and needed most of all, she slowly built a shell to hide inside. To keep the world, and life itself, from touching her. It was a hard shell, she blocked the vulnerability that she had been taught to fear. For a time, it felt like a solution. She felt secure in there, calm and impenetrable, not hurtable.
But before long this security turned to oppression, she felt disconnected from the only thing that made her feel alive, that she desired most of all, because deep down she felt that it wasn’t safe to want it. She felt buried alive, and her obsession became obtaining freedom, at any cost.
All she wanted any more was for the shell to break, to shatter, to be rescued and truly touched, Inside, again.
There’s so much I want to say
So much of Reality that I would like to put words and images to
To make manifest in forms
But the waters are murky and muddy
And the picture hidden from view
Bang my head against the wall
The glass needs breaking
Like a coconut, hard to crack
In a hard shell
The warm liquid inside is sustenance
But the shell…
It’s hard to break.
I want to be
Where the waters intermingle
Where the colors flash and shine
As what they are
As the multiple facets, indispensable
Of the one Reality
Inviolate,undisturbed,yet open,soft,and yielding
The OCD is part of me,it’s real, it’s there. Chronic doubts, intrusive thoughts, obsessive thoughts. But it is not ME. I am a lot more than it. I am beyond it. Right now, having the urge to remember and go over my thoughts about myself. In me I have what is real, what is beautiful and meaningful, inside (as do we all). Even though I get away from it sometimes, or worried that I don’t measure up. Have to let the ego and perfectionism go. But I am not nothing.
What am I? I am what I am.
Anyway, always looking for what’s Real. What’s Real is there, but can’t be grasped by clinging to my thoughts about what is Real and not letting go and just being in the moment. What’s important will come back. I can’t hold on to my vision constantly, it hurts to let go of my tight grasp on my thoughts but has to be done. Why is Reality always slipping from me? It is so damn FRUSTRATING.
Most people, do not understand my thought process I guess. So what. I am me, not them. As long as I have those who DO understand, I can deal with that.
Someday, the person who connects with me in the ways I am looking for and who does not turn away will be with me. I will not run after anyone anymore who doesn’t want to engage. I dont have to constantly be Abandoned and decided I am not Worth it to someone. I have more determination and will then some may give me credit for, I don’t have to accept rejection as a way of life, and, I will not.
Done with lies
Done with cries
I slam the door and cut the ties
My eyes are gouged out
My ears securely covered
Forget everything you meant, the fire has turned to ash
You never did quite hear me
And it poisoned me and made me ill
I may be sick all on my own
I tried with you too long
And it’s hopeless now I guess
So I will burn the bridge and forget you exist
I would like to destroy myself
And this world.