I can’t think. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to type. But I do, I so desperately want to type. I want to tell the world that doesn’t listen to what I have to say what has been happening in my life for the last 9 months. I want to scream into the void. But every time I feel a pang of inspiration, it drains away just as fast. Writing this is like pulling teeth. I want to throw my laptop. I don’t want to do this.
But my fucking god, I want to write so badly. I want to paint a picture with words. I want to shatter the bulletproof window that keeps me locked inside my castle of glass. I want to be seen, but I want to hide away all the same.
I want to open up, but I remain closed off. I’m afraid to share. I’m afraid to be vulnerable. I can’t be an open door for you all. I can’t be an open door for… you.
I sit on the other side of this door, hearing you out there. I’m listening but I can’t speak. Frozen inside myself, I let the moments slip away, over and over again.
These moments are unfounded, though. I know they’re there. I see them, I hear them. But I choose to not act. I choose to not let these moments come alive. For if they do, the vulnerability shines through. I am exposed. What will become of me if I set the vulnerability free? It’s too risky. If I let you in, I will most certainly let you down, and you’ll turn away out the same door you came in from.
I’m afraid to take the chance. I’m afraid to let you see my shadow. She remains in the dark, because if she’s seen, she’s haunting and an overwhelming presence that no one wants to see. No one needs to see my shadow. So I keep her away from the daylight, hidden away in the dark, where she belongs. And when I’m alone, we speak to each other because really, she’s all I have in everything. We understand each other.. and I am her prisoner. I know the way she dances around my mind and in my heart. She flaunts her control in my face… and oh, I love the way she wraps her hands around my throat when my triggers set me off. I love how she steals my vulnerability. I love the way she locks eyes with me in the mirror. And when we do, I just know that the honesty I feel, the truth I can’t speak, the way I actually loathe her, this little shadow of mine… I just know my existence is bleak when she comes into the light. I burn away the moment she encompasses me in the dark.
I’m blinded by the dark, and you run away. It’s too much- I’m too much. I’ve always been too much.
I know you’re wondering, “what does it mean? What does any of what you’re spewing actually mean?”
I don’t know how to communicate. I don’t know how to convey the absolute knotted mess in my mind into tangible thoughts that slip into a conversation easily. It’s a strange and poetic nauseating mess that I attempt to vomit out, to no avail. So I throw up on my blog instead.
It’s been so long since I’ve done so, though.
If I’m being honest… I’m just holding back. I’m holding back the river in my mind, which sometime slip through the cracks that are my eyes. The truth is… I [don’t] want you to know what’s on my mind. I [don’t] want you to know these thoughts that swirl around in my brain. I [don’t] want to expose that part of myself. I’m so tired of holding it back, but it’s all I can do to not let a little of that weight slip onto you. I am strong, so I hold the weight of my shadow, I keep still and stand as tall as I can, but I’m very tired. I can’t let a few bricks slip out of my pile near you. I’ll slowly walk over to my castle of glass and throw those bricks inside and shut the door quickly. We’ll move on with the light that surrounds myself because that’s safe, bright, and everything I want to expose of myself. The castle still looms behind me, but the sun shines on me and the castle is out of sight. We both know it’s there but… it’s easier to ignore it.
It’s easier to be okay, than to not be okay. It’s easier to dance around and away from my dark castle than to invite you inside. Once you go in, you won’t see me the same. And once you leave, you won’t want to go back in. You’ll see me in the light when we’re away from the castle, but you’ll never forget what you saw. You’ll keep your distance, and you’ll just want to be around me when I’m not in my castle, because it’s easier.
I don’t blame you.
So I keep my distance, to spare you the experience of listening to my dark thoughts, my unpleasant and intense emotions, my traumas, all the ugly things that make a person uncomfortable. It looks like I’m protecting myself, but honestly, I’m protecting YOU.
I don’t know if it’s possible to be 100% vulnerable again. I don’t remember how to be. I’m afraid of breaking into a million pieces and being left there, alone. The broom and dust pan get further away each time I shatter. I have to crawl and sweep up my mess every time. It’s exhausting. But honestly, it’ll always hurt to some degree when you walk away. But I can’t let you know, I must stay strong. I must stay brave. I must stay as unbreakable as I try to appear.
It’s not okay, and I’m not okay when the shadow washes over me. That’s the truth. But I can’t tell anyone that. Nobody wants to listen. And you. You might think you do, but please don’t fool yourself. I want them to stay. But they don’t want to. I don’t want people to change their minds- that’s what scares me the most. So I can’t let them know my truth, I don’t want to beg for them to stay. I won’t beg, ever again.
What am I to do? I don’t know the answer to this fickle riddle anymore.
I’m sorry if this post was an absolute shit show to read. I don’t know how to articulate any of this.
I don’t want to post it. But with a small shred of vulnerability, I will.
But I will still hide.