The Colours of Self

This is my skin but I can’t say I’ve met her.

No-one has met me yet.

No-one really knows her either.

I’m too scared to face the world and so is she.

The tale of two cities; I live in constant transit.
I nurture with excessive love, catering to pleasure and the provision of absolute support.
I function from strength, monochromatic decisions and absolute definitions.

The pursuit of divine sovereignty seems to linger in my atmosphere like a belt of stars on a clear, dark night.

To unite these cities under a single rule, the colours of self.

Maybe, but definitely sometimes.

My darling,

The dust dances in the golden streams of sunlight, as if time is slowed.
Flooding the room with warmth, this moment feels comfortable.
White-washed window frames, high ceilings and glass French doors.
The scent of warm wood and fresh spring blooms fill the room.

Here is where my mind escapes the madness.
The overwhelming presence of my reality.
The battle between who I know I am and who I think I am.
I’m at war – fighting for freedom from my demons.

You meet me there; somewhere vast and full of space, secrets.
I dream of you while I’m awake.
We talk, you’re there, and you’re bound by my lost regret and unfulfilled futures.
You’re forced into puppetry and words that aren’t yours – to fulfil a future that will never exist because I can’t resolve the reality that there was nothing I could do.

I can’t accept that we just weren’t meant to be.

I blame myself, because that way I still have control.
If I blame me, the future could/should/would have been different.
If I blame me I can pretend there was another outcome.
I can pretend we might have worked.
I can pretend you might have loved me.
Maybe, but definitely some times.

 

Mo’ Time, Mo’ Feels

Here we go again, another day of feeling…

After some confronting conversations with some close friends last night, I’m feeling very light. My honesty and candour with these close girlfriends has enriched our already long and heartfelt friendships – at least as far as I can tell.

It’s always hard to know how they’ve experienced the evening, and I remember constantly being careful to ensure they didn’t feel that I was putting anything on them.

Which leads me to today’s feels;

Today I am unsure about why I surrogate peoples feelings all the time.

  • Why am I so afraid of offending people?
  • Why do I feel it’s my responsibility to surrogate peoples feelings for them?
  • Why am I frightened to confront people when I feel they’ve hurt me? Or destabilised the emotions I held for them?

At a guess, I would imagine it has to do with the emotional abuse I grew up around.

Adults who confided their problems and emotions to a teenage me.
Adults whose emotions were so out of control, anything would set them off.
Adults who created a “walking-on-eggshell” home environment everyday.
Adults who made their very adult problems public to their developing children.
Adults who manifested an environment where feelings equalled drama/violence/pain.
Adults who didn’t have the tools to emotionally support their children.
Adults who didn’t understand the idea of a ‘Childs voice’.
Adults who unfortunately didn’t know any better.

It seems I have an innate fear of upsetting people from an installed fear that it will result in pain for me. That if I upset someone they’ll come bearing down on me like a tonne of bricks and I’ll feel trapped under the weight of their emotions.

Instead I internalise.

I’d rather work through my emotions alone – and incredibly slowly – than risk rocking the boat with a friend/colleague/family member.

Thankfully last night I was able to set some of those emotions free. I was able to safely communicate how I felt and my friends took it really well.

Last night I didn’t have to surrogate.

Turns out, I don’t have to surrogate tomorrow either.

Today, this is how I feel;

  • I feel grateful:
    • To the amazing friends I have who create and hold safe spaces for me.
    • To my amazing boyfriend who holds an infinite amount of space and time for me.
    • To the process of time and healing.
    • To the fortunate life circumstances I was born into which has allowed for access to free mental healthcare (if you’re based in Australia, we have this).
    • For my health, the love of my family and friends and for the daily chance to grow and create newness.
  • I feel nervous
    • About my next move. Will I be able to work through my feelings or will I continue to eat them? Will I choose healing over convenience and a quick fix?
    • About parenting my inner child. Will she be open to feeling again? Will she listen to me? Does she know this is the only way forward?

Well, I guess she does, as she is me. But I can feel that she’s scared and really doesn’t want to feel pain again – she feels like she’s had her share and shouldn’t have to feel anymore pain.

I have an appointment with my psychologist tonight, so I’ll keep you posted.