Sunday, September 25, 2005
I hate feeling vulnerable; like a turtle without its shell… at times I feel like a fish out of water. It’s not as if I don’t belong… I know I do…
It’s like putting your feet in a pair of high heels you haven’t quite grown into yet…
The thing about feeling fragile isn’t the thoughts that go through your mind… thoughts and fears are so easily camouflaged. The hard part is keeping people away from coming too close, because you know that it only takes one word that might send you spiralling down the emotional rollercoaster.
For this reason, one develops a tendency to avoid sensitive topics and refrain from making new friends.
Every memory, every moment seems to bring with it a reason for a tear to fall. Because I don’t feel safe, because I don’t feel found… even though I know that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
I can’t talk about it… even though there are those willing to listen, those who care about how I feel. It’s as if uttering the words will open a flood gate I’m not sure I can control. And even though I’m aware that talking is the first step to healing, I’m not willing to risk the thin wall between healing and losing all control. And so, I prefer letting it out… little by little; stream by stream, tear by tear rather than trying to control an ocean of sentiment.
Sensitive… Ears attuned to every word; you have to remind yourself not to misinterpret the things you hear.
Jumpy… as if three’s something waiting fall, break or grab you in every corner that you cross.
Frightened… of all the things that might happen and that you can’t control; invoking the desire to run and hide, pull the sheets over your head and never come out again.
I wake up each morning grateful to be alive… a tear might run down my face and yet I wouldn’t want to be anyone else, be anywhere else or live any other life.
I’m vulnerable… adjusting in my skin that belongs to the new life I’ve chosen.
I’m not any weaker, any less strong or insecure…
I’m just trying to find my feet again… trying to keep balance.