I’ve avoided writing for a long time now, I’ve been scared of myself and my own mind, and some days I still am- more than I let on.
What is it I’m scared of, you may wonder, well in short everything. It’s why I fill my life with so many things, so many things all around me and I’m none of them and yet they contain me because sometimes I can’t do that for myself anymore. And that crushes me.
So many things, the clutter of me, to distract me from the gaping hole inside me. The vast emptiness that swallowed the pain and the heartbreak so that I never had to feel it or face it. I’ve orchestrated this picture perfect life so that I’d never have to feel, and most days I still don’t, or if I do it’s terror.
But, maybe writing was what I needed? A piece by piece way to feel and to hold the things and parts of me that feel like they’re breaking by merely looking at them. It’s just hard to hold and feel that unending emptiness and sorrow, because as soon as I do my mind goes to them. All of those that I have lost along the way, but also the slow realisation that with each and every one of them since James I’ve never been able to be my true self. I’ve become such a skilled chameleon that I even fool myself, because I’ve got it all, right?
Everything I’ve worked for, years of work and dedication, just unfortunately it seems to have cost me a great deal of my sanity so far. I guess everything has a price, I just never knew this would be mine… I’m not sure I’d take this offer if I’d known that all along. I know people say to value who you are and the journey that brought you there, I mean I say it to people myself too… I’m just not sure I buy into it right now.
Who I am. Who I could have been. All the people that marked me emotionally and physically, either never quite realising they did, or just not having the capacity or the care to do any differently. Some of them I’m glad have gone, but some… I miss them.
I miss me. I know they’ll never come back; I just hope that I will, because I don’t think I’ve ever been this far away from the home of me. One thing’s for certain, we’re not in Kansas anymore.