I like to think of myself as strong. However, there are times where I feel brittle, emotionally. I tried to walk it off when I herniated two discs in my back, as I find physical pain or discomfort to be much easier to handle than my own emotional weaknesses. Luckily, the present does not find me to be in such a weak state, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to function at top form, let alone write.
I push myself physically, as I find it to be therapeutic. Feeling the power and accomplishment helps me to feel strong, which I guess I hope turns into an emotional strength too. It’s a bit ironic that I fully accept my “baggage” as a part of me, much like a limb. However, I am going through graduate school in hopes to help other people to work through their “baggage.” I guess it is easier for me to accept it as part of who I am, rather than confront it head on.
I am not sure what life would be like if I didn’t have the multitude of emotional scars. Would I be more carefree? Would I have less anxiety? Even the thought of having less anxiety makes me…well…anxious. Just like how yoga and meditation induces panic attacks. I suppose it stems from the fear of my mind being “quiet,” as that is when the darkness sneaks in and smothers the light. Smells, sounds, and environments can trigger memories, or they can overcome me like an unexpected dog fart.
My past likes to taunt me at times, and the more I learn, the more I realize that events from my past are linked to my present and possibly future too. People (family) have told me to “just snap out of it,” and “get over it.” If only they knew the events that lurk in my past…they would understand just how hurtful those words can feel. Secrets that I will most likely take with me to my grave, haunt me on a daily basis. If only I could just “get over it.”
Until that day though, I live life, one day at a time, nerves exposed to my surroundings.
No comments:
Post a Comment