Dark Truth: Battledoors

August 3, 2019

I’d like to believe have no recollection of the path which led me from wilderness to desert, but I’d be fooling myself. I’d love to pretend I’m blind to the patterns of behavior that led me here, oblivious to the why and how, but I see it all clearly. A series of events; a string of low blows and wounding interactions actively engaging the battledoors of survival mechanisms.

The simple thought of writing it all out, sharing the series of events that led me to this cold and isolating moment leaves me nauseated. The bitch in my head is tired of my whining, and my emotions cannot take it anymore – the rollercoaster of extremes. Feeling everything all at once or nothing at all – a nightmare of confusion and hopelessness. My adrenal sending up flairs and roadblocks before I can even begin.

How do I share the hurt without feeling the pain? How do I work through it all without reliving the trauma? How do I push myself forward without feeling the shame of imperfection and failure? How do I let it all go? How do I move on?

Intellectually I know exactly what I should be doing, and to my surprise, knowledge of a thing makes no fucking difference at all. I always believed if I could acquire knowledge and skills while also learning to play by the rules, I could successfully navigate the journey that is LIFE. All I had to do was bury my weaknesses and exemplify my strengths; head held high – self-worth hinged on success and acceptance.

As long as I’m doing what I’m ‘supposed” to be doing, everything will work out well enough. With every violent turn of this chaotic life, I found new ways to cope and ultimately survive. Always believing if I searched far and wide I would find the answers to all my problems. Truly believing all of life’s struggles can be overcome with enough wisdom and experience.

Yet, here I sit surrounded by years of seeking,  insurmountable hours of research and in-depth reflection, feeling the claustrophobia of the walls closing in on me. Until this moment, I never understood how a person could see a problem in their life, acquire the solution, and still not take appropriate action. How could a person with a fixable problem, not fix it? And here I sit!

Bookshelves of personal development notebooks filled to the brim with meditation, yoga, gratitude, journaling, and so much more. It’s all there, every tool I’ve ever needed to push through and move on; self-help, bibles, pages and pages of guidance, and I feel nothing; less than nothing! Not a single connection to any of it; not a hint of hope or joy anywhere. I cannot make myself do what I know I need to do. Every full-blown push to move forward in my life, to seek connection and purpose, leaves me faceplanted in a pile of shit.

How did I end up here? Loss. Grief. A series of unwelcomed physical and emotional events. Events forced upon me by others and myself; invisible scars inflicted unintentionally by those who deflect rather than reflect. Forcing their own pain upon an already weak mind, body, and spirit – a highly sensitive one at that.

In every moment, I followed the rules, I tried my best, and I fought my hardest but never did I come out the winner. Never did I leave the ring a champion. No, in every instance I was left a bloodied mess in the corner of the ring. Staring out among the masses as they ignored my pain and suffering. Watching as all I love fades away in the distance; feeling all hope and strength drain from my body as I bleed out.

In what I imagined to be one of the happiest moments of my life, I am left isolated in a dry desolate wasteland of self-loathing, confusion, and chaos. Seeking joy wherever I can find it; a treasure hunt of small shifts in energy – the smallest of moments will do. A touch, a hug, the purr of a cat, the kiss of a dog, and the genuine laugh and smile of my son. These are the moments I hold onto, no matter how fleeting. These moments, like little trinkets, remind me clearly and simply that this is ALL temporary!





Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash




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