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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?
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