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summary:
Due to circumstances beyond her control, this woman is in therapy, asking herself, and trying to understand where she belongs, who she really is, and where to go from here. It is a dark tale—an intense piece of self-discovery and of emotions too long buried.
Thank you for your time, and thanks to a friend who said this should be posted. djhw57@hotmail.com

CROSSROADS (by DJWOODS) click for the second part

Sitting in this small room, I wonder how in the Hell I got to this point.
I'm always in control-not of everyone else-I'm not into power-but control of me-my emotions-how to figure things out-make things work-get the job done. But the price I'm paying now for stuffing unresolved emotions is that I've broken myself. All the years of being in control have caught up with me, and I am in control no longer.
I've just climbed out of a deep dark hole with no doors or windows, and am trying to face the world, and more importantly I need to learn to face myself. I am a private person
-I have a lot to be private about-wishes, dreams, desires and questions that should be just that, and remain that way-private. I've held them that way-hostage in my head and heart and soul all my life. Trying to expose them to the light now is like peeling a layer off that has been glued in place-almost too painful to comprehend-not only the emotional, but the connecting physical pain along with it. I feel like I am in pieces now that the glue is gone.

It all started to fall apart so slowly that I didn't even recognize it-but it came out as anger. Anger that built slowly like a steam engine, building up strength-taking years before hitting full speed, and then surprising me with the blast and fall out.

All my life I've wanted to be like everyone else-to fit in-to be a part of the majority, but never quite making it. As a child, not liking hopscotch or tea parties, but enjoying football and baseball, and in doing so, paying the price. Even a talent for music and writing didn't add self-confidence, but just set me farther away from the crowd I longed to join. So I buried the things that made me different as much as possible, tried to bury them as deep as I could-hoping they would never resurface-an illusion. What I tried to bury the most is a part of me-something that I could not accept-didn't know how to-didn't want to believe. Someone else-fine, but not me-please not me-I am so different already-I can't handle something this big-so I didn't.

An advance not rejected-a response unable to deny-a seed planted that grew even in the darkest part of my soul, and all these years later, has decided to free itself.

I so sit in this small room with a stranger to record down my insides as they fall out onto the floor-sifting through it all to try to put me back together again-not the same person-she is gone, but maybe another-a whole one.

I've worn a mask for so long it seems natural to protect it-who is behind the mask? Is there even anyone there? But the mask is now cracked and must be removed, so I have no choice but to look in the mirror and face the person looking back at me. I am not who I appear-I am not the one people think they know-yet I am-only that one and more. It's the 'more' that must be dealt with. It's a painful process, and not only to me, but also to those closest to me-the few that I've let in as much as I am capable. Even they don't know this whole dark side-this other side of the coin-neither do I. I'm trying to lay it down on paper to help me understand, but that feels dangerous, having had my written word betray me in the past-erasing my trust. Trust? Oh yes, I have trouble with that-how can there be trust with something that can destroy everything I know-destroy the connection with my family, my friends and my even job. What good is there in being right when you're left with nothing but that knowledge, but in finding it-losing all else? But not letting it out, even only to myself, is destroying me. I have no choice. To continue in life as my former self, I take medication-I get through the days and continue to hide, but at the expense of the side effects of blurred vision and a constant tremor in my hands-trembling like someone in withdrawal-but not withdrawal-just the opposite.

if it was only me to deal with, this journey would be easier, but I've bound myself to someone who loves the person that I've projected and now this knowledge that I've had to share, is bleeding him dry. Where do I belong? With him-or do I need to separate from that 'me' and start over with the rest of me-alone?