Who are you when no one is watching…

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Lately i have been pondering more than necessary, wondering and begging for some answers, words, anything to silence the queries in my mind. It becomes almost unbearable at times to have this constant whirling sensation somewhere deep inside you that you cannot seem to grasp and shake into a stunned silence. Even now im so preoccupied with this feeling that the words i wish to say simply skip out of mind with their own agenda and im left with a detached feeling of confusion. What would you call this? or for skipping time to the important ending i require how do i cure this?
For the last year i feel as though i have been chasing my tail, my plan was to allow myself to go with the flow of life, beating it had defeated me yet living in it still had a appeal. Yet in my slowing down my feet have been thrown in the air and my body dragged in a rip tide where life has picked up the tempo and thrown me into a whirlpool of scenarios without any regard of my pleas of not being able to swim. Heart, mind, soul and health have all been put to the test.
Recently grief has knocked my door and although we have shook hands before this time he stayed a little longer. Hitting me with surprise i swayed into a minefield of multiple goodbyes hitting my all at once, rendering me frozen in loss. A overwhelming current that no amount of tears or denial could shake off i simply tried to paddle in a deep cavity alone, surrendering to the caves.
Being optimistic with a slant of pessimism i have always weighed up situations but found majority of the time i would often do the thing i swayed myself away from, why? who knows, maybe i just wanted the kick of looming disappointment, maybe i was trying to change my perception of disappointment being guaranteed. People were my weakness, with my character of ‘Who am i to judge when i walk so imperfectly’ welcoming people is a given, the more damaged the better, i want to help you i want to help you find yourself or what your looking for. Yet while trying to find you ive now allowed myself to admit that its the mirror in which im trying to see myself. Who am i? I would like to say this identity confusion has a pin point of where it started but i cant seem to recall a time where i stood comfortably on my own nodding in approvement, do you ever?.
Falling into themes or things was easy, a chameleon possibly in a previous life i can be in the group or invisible when needs be. Now im not completely clueless i am aware of what im into and what my personality traits are even though i feel i have too many passions and interests for one person. Why am i asking now? the last year has been a eye opening one, even with my eyes blinded shut with denial, fear and tears. Seeing things with a different sense, a newly used heart that was forcibly cracked open like a oyster shell, the pearl within shined in front of me i was in awe of how beautiful this pearl could be in the right light, yet as most things when the shine started to dull i resumed to the fact that darkness can infiltrate from anywhere and i shamed myself for the silly brief moment i believed in it. This new sight has remained remarkably but with a more bitter view, i stare into things seeing the beauty but feeling childish in the sense that im not allowed to hold or touch it, ive essentially denied myself the one thing us humans desire and that is to be loved. Yes, your being idiotic yes we are all deserving of this yet this is the side effect of loosing something you love, sitting on the side line knowing you could cross the path but being blocked by the invisible wall you yourself have built your inner child retreating.
Emotional attachment is something i have been reading up on lately, for a person who does not trust easily and often holds back their inner secrets i seem to love far too easily. I knew my brain had to handle guilt and shame, it often has a tendency of spreading to places it does not belong and leaving me uncertain. I think i seek to attach, if you share something, a certain key word, a look or a gut feeling i can feel myself attaching to you, not in a creepy stalker sense but rather in the sense of your important because you maybe validate me in ways i cannot validate myself. When people have rarely moved me or made me feel good in any way i simply am fueled with fear they could leave and take the feeling away which in turn intensifies the attachment i have to them. Before you all think im crazy trust me we all have a emotional attachment even from childhood you became attached to people or things, your favorite teddy for example yet as we grow and these things are no longer deemed to be a acceptable trait for adulthood we seek a stronger connection, i felt mine was never satisfied and i would cling and cling until i would be discarded like a unwanted cloth.
A book i adored growing up was Pat Barkers-Regeneration, this book was thrown at us in English literature which merged two of my favorite studies into one, Words and History. Reading became a great escapism, a international one that everyone at some point has ventured into, i found when my imagination took over the story i was reading my urge to write kicked in. After many bad attempts at stories which alot of the time i would read and think they were really good yet would turn out to be a distant film i had watched or idea, i passed on plagiarism and tried to work out what was fueling the words that were violently trying to explode from my mouth. For me it was pain/sorrow, not all bad pain and in the beginning not quite justified as pain maybe little peeves that had been corrupting my mind all day that i needed to vent out to my trusty note book. A poet at heart, i need pain to inspire me to write.  I read a brilliant quote from a film once that said “I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen” This was literally my form of writing, when i felt hurt, betrayed or simply heartbroken writing oozed from me, bleeding feelings and words onto the paper in a suicide of ink. For hours i could scribble out poetry melodically and in turn i would feel a minor release from some anguish. It became a addiction in fact, when i felt it i would be frantically trying to write something down to remove it from my mind shaking with the panic of forgetting the exact thing i had meant in the moment. For me a great help, the least harmful way of self harm in a sense, although when too much was being said and no ode could form enough to write, more harmful moments would haunt me. This book however was one of those reads that i felt a place within, the whole concept of revisiting trauma or a moment you have clung to with no way of letting it go, to relive it, feel every second of pain, the gasps of breath and to watch yourself pass through it and be free on the other side appealed to me. A sort of radical self acceptance as such.
In a way, I wish I could stop the intricate elaborate deep-thinking process i seem to embellish every day, surely there is a world out there far more promising than the plan A, B and C my mind will regimentally search for. Yet the introvert in me has been practicing since as long as i can remember and in a sense has brought me to who i am currently. Compassion is my favorite quality about myself, i do know that of me, empathy comes easily and comfort is a natural response. A side effect of the over thinker i have found recently is the inability to become excited by something, i find myself deconstructing something before the serotonin even reaches its climax and of course im pleased but the excitement or surprise response seems to be disabled. I have no idea how to repair these, practicing shock/surprise moments seems pragmatically hilarious.
Again im pondering, and for this reason im searching for whether i was always this way inclined or whether it was a hallmark accessory to wear when you have fallen into the anxiety clang. It will be something im not sure i will ever work out, i will keep trying to train my brain in ways i have already started to accomplish, using the word stop is something i keep reading and with this i can hear a snort in the badly behaved part of my brain and a head shake of uselessness. I will forever be in search of more and more wisdom and i think in honesty its not that im lost, i think i just keep walking.  I’ll never be a person who says this is me and written in stone i will be a ever adjusting in a world of diversity but linger to the urge of a place to fit in, somewhere to lay my hat when im weary.
I have sparked many arguments lately from friends and family with my need to move, there has always been a feeling inside that my placement is not right, i have lived in the same town for 30 years and although it is home and its familiar i feel ive outgrown it. Trying to dull out my thoughts and general lust in wanting more from life has become exhausting, and explaining it has become less of a chore and now  more of a taboo topic. In all honesty i dont think i can ever let myself be who im supposed to be in this town, its backwards in many senses and none of my boxes are ticked. Identity, sexual being, gender roles and basic personalities are supposed to all merge into the same and as someone who is completely different to most this leaves me with a large amount of waste i cannot remove or use.  My plan like most is to try win the lottery and make my move as simple as possible but we have more chance of being struck by lightening right? which for me would be likely as i chase storms and adore lightening so that outcome would suffice for a moment. So it leaves me with the notion of the impossible, which is the tone of this blog, pure chaos and tension that i cannot release as i feel there is not a outlet, frustrated. I travel alot and although i get my fix from wanderlust it makes me hungry, famished almost, emaciated with desire to leave and move to a place where my eccentric personality and romantic soul would fit in and i can learn and grow properly.
Amateurishly studying psychology i do believe in all the bad feelings we try hide from, feeling hurt or lost is our brains telling us things, recently i say ive worked this out after years of hiding or running into walls to stop the thought process. I know i had to feel lost, its the only way i regroup and learn, its not until we find lost do we understand ourselves. Living on autopilot was something i tried to fight whereas now its allowing me time to sit back and watch more than participate, i watch myself going through the motions and wonder where i could change up things or insert myself better. Everything about my future was ambiguously assumed yet this burning passion and spring i had over run making the mundane routine more tiresome than actually pursuing a dream. Could being too cautious actually be the risk rather than going for something that feels like a distant calling?
It took some time and some unwanted introspection, but out of the loneliness of my broken and used heart, I came out with a bright light of creativity and personal understanding, and this was a reoccurring theme and one im so thankful returned to my world. Even though writing alot of meaningless words to try clear up the mess in my brain it stops me from scratching my eyes and rendering them vision less.  Even though parts of me are broken, with help im managing to rearrange all the other working parts to stay in place. 
 I think the theme of this blog im trying to portray is even though times test you, moments that once took your breath away now leave you retching for air and a road that you once skipped down without a worry is now riddled with debris and is a dead end of memories your not allowed to revisit.  Out of this its ok for you to sit and ponder, take as long as you need and endure as much as you can but eventually you will have to find another way.  The vines wrapped so tightly around your heart and the claws which once resembled soft palms for someone to hold are now your survival weapons out. 
I smile in the knowledge that even though i have not managed to find my way, took some wrong turns or simply had some of my roads taken from me, i have a creativity inside of me that if there is no solution to a problem, i will just create one.
“So don’t be afraid to lose yourself. The individual that comes out of the maze might just surprise you” 
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2 thoughts on “Who are you when no one is watching…

  1. I love the imagery you use and how you are trying to write through the pain…

    I feel like I have been in many places that you have. And I have gotten up and moved (major moves, starting over) and it did help me change my life.

    Sometimes, it isn’t as hard as people expect to start over, sometimes it is. I’ve left home and had to come back a few times too.

    I figure things out as I write through them so hopefully it will bring clarity and decision to you, too.

    Thank you for sharing your thoughts and words.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you ☺️ figuring out what I’m feeling/doing through writing was always a norm to me it wouldn’t feel like it made much sense any other way so I’m glad you share that view. Thank you so much for the review and the words of hope, starting over is my focus right now so a kick in the right direction for sure.

      Liked by 1 person

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