Come Out Come Out- Wherever You Are.

Hello from one of the most beautiful places on earth. Although- lately- it hasn't been beautiful. It has been cold and rainy and leaving me with great unease and anxiety. Or maybe I bring those things here. Which may mean I am ruining paradise. I may have to think on that one.

Life as of late has been chaotic to say the least. I have moved Home. A place I have dreamt of for as long as I can remember. A place I have never had before. I have lived places, slept places, have addresses, but never had anywhere feel close to where I should be. Home for me has been a place of terrible fear. Nail biting. A place of secrets. Lies. Pain. Pain that stings long after the belt. Pain that still swirls in my heart and makes my back clench. Pain that feels as strong now in this moment, just as it did when I had baby curls and a bedtime.

This has always been hard to explain. I guess I cover my scars well. I can paint over myself to look just right. To look beautiful. To look normal. I have been able to erase my history- on a skin level anyway. But the more I try to settle into my new home, the more unpacking I do emotionally. To say I am uncovering a whole new level of loss is to say the least. The more I unpack, the more I learn all that I do not have. All that I never had. All that was taken from me, robbed from me, and stolen. All that I needed. All that I still need now. And all that I have  wanted for what seems like my lifetime.

I find my patience getting shorter- for others, and most likely myself too. I pride myself on being a caring human being. Being someone to be trusted, relied on. A safe person to turn to- no matter the time. No matter anything at all. As I unpack and settle- I feel unsettled. I unpack alone yet again. Without any help. Without anyone. And this constant is driving me mad constantly. My tolerance for this is at an all time low. I now say things out loud to myself, to the Universe, to anyone who will listen, really. I could really use some help here- from someone able to do it. From someone who wants to do it. For someone who wants to do this with me.

Now, I know I may not be the easiest person. But I try very hard to not let my past screw up my present and future. I know there are others that are be easier, younger, prettier, simpler, what have you. I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes. But I still think I am someone worth wanting. Someone worth saying things out loud to. Someone who wants to be here- not just in space and time. But here in my heart. Here in my life. 

I'm not afraid like I used to be. I used to be locked in a room. Beaten bloody and ruined. I used to be in a room bruised and battered and left alone. I used to be in a room staring at the cracks in my door from the bashing. I used to be in a room shaking and shattered. I used to be in a room buried in a corner rocking myself to be calm. I would watch my hands shake and feeling them freezing cold terrified to leave. I would feel this freeze on my fingertips and feel nothing else. Feel no heart beat. Feel no life. Feel no emotion. Feel nothing but the freezing digit pulse. This was my life for many years.

I would be in a hot bath stung failing at catching my breath and crying. I used to be in a room on the floor wondering if this is what it felt like to die. For my body to feel my soul leave it. For my heart to be so broken that I wished they had killed me, because at least then it would be over. I'm not afraid like I used to be. But I remember.

I say things out loud now- say them with complete fragility and wavering voice. To say things out loud isn't easy for me. But I have to say it. To have been locked away for so long, it makes me need to say things out loud. I just have to do it. But every time I get no response, every time I get dead air, every time I get nothing in return, I feel what I did before. I remember. 

Still, I have to do it. I have to take this life of mine and match it to the beauty around me. Take something for myself. Make myself into something. 

I didn't think that this move would unleash all that I thought was settled. Make me remember things I spent thousands of dollars killing with drugs and therapy. I didn't know it would all come rushing back to me. I didn't think it was still following me, still a part of me, something to be settled again. Vulnerability is a mother fucker. Seeing how others see me can be just as tricky. Seeing my life through the eyes of another can be beautiful. And it is this beauty that keeps me talking, keeps me praying, keeps me saying things out loud. Keeps me telling myself to settle again. Keeps me.

 

(Photo by http://thomas-rant.blogspot.com/)