Getting Vulnerable

You know, when my writing gets stifled, is actually when I have the most to write about. But…I’m afraid. Afraid of judgment. Afraid of the crazy making in my head. To many of you who read my blog, you may actually be able to see this giant gaping wound in my spirit…the one that is so afraid of what people think. It stinks. Really. Because I don’t WANT to care. I don’t care. But there’s the little bitty girl inside who was wounded a long long time ago that doesn’t know how in the world to find her way out. She just reacts and responds to triggers that she doesn’t know about or why they cause such chaos. That little girl needs some healing. She has healed a great deal over the course of her adult bodied life. But there’s still a big giant owie in there. One must find the wound before they can medicate it. I don’t know where mine is. But I’m looking.

I’ve lived with this quandry for a long time…there’s a part of me that others have touted as ‘wise’. And then there’s the terribly broken part that is a complete train wreck. I don’t know how to live this dichotomous existence. The ‘wise’ part of me feels very confident and sure of herself. The broken part is well…broken. There’s nothing but insecurity there. When my brokenness and confusion comes to the surface, its as if the wise part just evaporates. I know that it doesn’t…but tell that to the broken part of me. She doesn’t listen very well.

The ‘thing’ that has gotten me so out of whack the past few months is relationship. Somewhere back at the beginning of time, all views, concepts, opinions, and examples of relationship were broken. I did not grow up with a healthy example, anywhere. I do not know how to do it. And then there’s all the broken pieces of who I am. The beautiful part was broken. The worthy part was broken. The capable, strong, confident, amazing, talented, creative, imaginative, etc. etc…all broken. I’ve managed to put the creative part together, for the most part. The rest? Carnage. How we are able to exist in the midst of all the wreckage is a miracle. It really is. But what I find more amazing is that it CAN all be rebuilt. It just takes time… Patience. Faith.

I’ve been overcome with anxiety trying to figure things out. Because where discomfort lives, well…I want to find my way out as soon as humanly possible. I will look and seek and search and grasp and grope and desperately pursue any avenue that might have an answer. But all I really need is silence. To BE STILL. Holy cow, it is difficult to be still. Have you ever tried to still your brain for one minute? Clearly…not something I can do easily or well. But I’m slowly but surely working it out.

Sometimes, I hate the place that I find myself in my head. HATE IT. Because that place projects junk onto others while I’m working it out…just before I turn the mirror around and take a good hard look. Then when I realize what it has done, I feel awful! Because I LOVE the people who surround me. The last thing I would ever consciously do is harm them in any way. Judgment is harmful. And when I realize that I have done that, I commence to beating myself up. And…the beating myself up thing is a broken part of me that I don’t know where the source is. A work in progress. In the mean time, I can allow myself a little bit of grace for not being perfect and having it all figured out. Still hate it. Perhaps a little forgiveness is in order, as well.

ANYWAYS…working it out.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret, though. I am…IN a relationship. Clearly…I have a lot of things to work through before I can reach the giddy, high, happier than a clam, so crazy excited that I’ve got me a hunk of a beautiful man. I will eventually be able to share the good stuff…when I allow myself some happiness. Hopefully that will happen sooner rather than later.

I do deserve happiness (talking to myself).