Answer the Question – Truth

And here we are again. (Aren’t we?)
We’re on the verge of a decision. We’re on the verge of fear and dealing with the problems of what comes with indecision.
We’re in the purgatory of emotions and thoughts.
Here we are again, unsure, hopeful, wondering, wishing that something would just happen already, like an answer perhaps, or maybe a sign or something, anything, anything at all that would make the challenge of our heart be settled and fine. 

Here we are again, sleepless yet dreaming, hopeful yet doubtful; thus, here we are caught in a womb-like place where the world is on the outside yet there’s this emotional dilemma of being on the outside looking in.

Ever find yourself asking, When is it going to be my turn?
Ever wonder if the elusiveness of life is intentional?
Maybe there’s a reason for this, right? Isn’t that what people say: There’s a reason for everything, right?
Maybe this is true. Maybe this is all intentional. Maybe life as we’d like it to be is elusive, just like the end of a rainbow.
Maybe the struggle is real or maybe; just maybe there’s a reason behind everything that somehow orchestrates our life into one big “AH-HA!” moment and suddenly, we get it. Or, at least we think we do.
Maybe not everything is as tragic as our circumstances lead us to believe. Maybe our thinking leads us to a place of disadvantage and, therefore, maybe our anxiety takes off like a propeller into outer space.

I will grant you this; to walk away is both the bravest and scariest thing we do. Dare I say it, watching someone walk away is hard and painful. Believe me though, I get it.

There are a thousand reasons to come forward. No, wait.
There are endless opportunities and countless reasons why we need to step forward yet there is this idea we call fear. There are the punishing features of the internal monologue and the whispers of doubt which, again, you’ve heard me say this at least a million times but those whispers in your head can be louder than any scream.
Ever want to break out of your cage?
Ever want to jump out of everything?
Ever grow so tired yet you can’t sleep?
You can’t get away from the cell which you’ve been kept in for as long as you can remember.
Keep in mind:
There are these details which are only cognitive. There are these fixtures and features in our life which have acted as landmarks of misinformation. These items have led us to a result. Therefore, we are living in regards to past experiences that have left us with groves and imprints and emotional embossments that have lead us to here. Right here, right now, and at this exact time. 

There is a shell around us. There are layers that have covered over us and scabbed over the details of our social cuts and scrapes. There are layers that cover our bruises and invisible wounds that can only be seen or felt by us – yet, there’s a big world out there saying, “Come on in.”
Don’t worry . . .
But can’t they see this?
Can’t they see why we don’t jump in?
Don’t they know about the scars we’ve been trying to hide because if we see them and we feel them; wouldn’t this mean the rest of the world would know why we’re so afraid?
But wait . . . do we want them to know?
Do we want anyone to see this?

But ah, worry.
Worry is the one thing that has been constant with us. We know all about worry, don’t we?
We understand worry. In fact, we understand worry so much that life without worry can become worrisome.
Know what I mean?
Worry makes sense to us. In fact, we’ve been worried for so long, what would we do if there was nothing to worry about?
Except to worry of course.
We’d probably worry that something else will go wrong or that the good times would come to a halt.
Worry . . .
Worry that we’ll lose. Worry that everything we hoped for will fall apart.
Worry that we’ll be alone.
Worry that the pain never goes away. How could it? How could the pain go away?
What if a worry goes away and then we have to deal with it when it comes back?
Isn’t that something to worry about?
See, no one talks about this.
But I’m sure everyone can relate to this – at least to some degree.
How can we heal though?
How can a scab heal if we keep picking at it; yet, we do this.
Don’t we?
We keep the scars alive. We keep them safe and warm.
Yet, there are dreams and aspirations; there are hopes and possibilities and opportunities abound. Somehow, we find ourselves stuck in the suspension of indecision because fear has gripped us way too tightly.

You can’t move forward. You can’t quit.
You don’t want to walk away because you’re afraid of what you might lose.
You can’t stay. You can’t go.
So what the hell do you do?

Is this relatable? Is this only me?
Or is this the whole world? But at the same time, we’re all on our own personal trip.
This is unique to say the least. But also, I am with you here and you are with me here; yet, the two of us have different eyesight. We come from a different background. We have different relationships with information.
We have different fears and different intimidations.
At the same time, we do share a common goal.

We want to be happy. Everybody wants to be happy,
at least I know I do.
But how?

I want to be happy. I want to be free from myself. I want to be free from the entrapment of harsh and judgmental thinking.
I want to be rid of my intimidations. I want to grow my strengths and diminish my weaknesses.
I want to be cleansed and washed from my old or previous self.

There are times when our thoughts are consumed by loss. There are also times when our damages carry over to the next generation of our new beginnings.
There are scars and breaks, faults and flaws. There are misconceptions and misinterpretations.
There’s miscommunications and misunderstandings.
There are misguided ideas and misdirected angers which somehow do nothing more than separate us from our path of where we want to go.
I write this in full disclosure and with clear and total transparency. I am, above all things, imperfect at best.
At the same time, I am a perfect creature who is caught in the cobwebs of simple complexities.
Yes, I laugh because I know me better than anyone else in the world (except maybe for you) and at the same time, I offer this as a confession that I am scared.

I have scars that are both visible and un-seeable. I am faulted and flawed and insecure.
I am frequently reminded of my personal and body image and the challenges which face me in the mirror. One of my eyes is shaped differently from the other. One of my ears is shaped differently. My teeth are not what I’d like them to look like; hence, I’m insecure to smile. I do not like the sound of my voice so to hear myself on audio or to see myself on video is absolutely haunting. 

I exposed a piece of truth to a person while awaiting the magic coffee machine to do its job.
I told this person that I’m petrified.
I told them about my panic attacks and how people scare me. Meanwhile, I was four minutes away from speaking publicly.
As I mentioned this, the person’s head sort of cocked back and their face produced an odd or perplexed expression; as if to them, the idea of me being intimidated was ridiculous.
To me, whether this makes sense or not, the truth is still the truth. The truth is I am afraid of people. I am afraid of losing people. At the same time, I’m afraid to walk away when the time is right. I’m afraid of decision. I’m afraid to be a fool or to be left out or unwanted.
I’m afraid to go left or right because I’m afraid that maybe it’s too late.
I’m afraid of being afraid. I’m afraid that something about me is just slightly off; as if to say that there are imperfections about me that make me somehow unmatchable to the rest of the world. Again, I say this with all certainty and honestly because, otherwise, everything else about me would be a lie.

See, this is honesty.
This is truth. 

This is a pattern of thinking which is shaped by ideas and feelings. These are my thinking errors and my cognitive distortions. 

I read something by a mental health professional which was brilliant – and then I looked into what I do.
Then I began to question myself.
Is any of this real? Does any of this matter?
Is this all about me? Or you?
Or is this me simply screaming out into the world as if to say, “Hey, does anybody else see this?”
Maybe I am alone . . .
Maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.

Rather than discuss theories and mental health research or rather than discuss statistics and tactics; I think that I would rather just be here (with you) and be honest. If no one else cares then so be it.

I am broken and fine and unbroken with a future ahead of me.
I don’t know what that means yet. I don’t know the answers to all of my questions.
I don’t know when tomorrow is going to happen – at least not really.
And I get it.
I get that this sounds like a contradiction of terms. I say this because, at the moment, tomorrow is only 12 hours away.
But I don’t know what will come in the upcoming hours. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
I only know that for the moment, I have this special station in my head.
I have this little place where I have done all that I can to include you with. 

All that I have is right here.
Everything is here.
The plans to my great escape.
The blueprint to my special trick.
The key to a locker which is where I keep my sacred gifts, my memories, my dirty truths, my shameful secrets and my most precious moments.
I have a drawer with my times of pride, moments of happiness, successes, tears and laughs.
All that I have is right here.
I know that some people will laugh at me for giving this to you so freely.
But none of this is really free because, in fact, this has cost me everything.
I know that most people wouldn’t understand and some people just couldn’t understand because they lack the capacity.
But not you.
You get it.
(Don’t you?)

For now, I think I’ll close this entry here.
I think I’ll close my eyes and think of something inspiring.
I think I’ll picture moments from a good time, a laugh, a sunset, a warm embrace without any anger or distraction or a random sighting of a few porpoise at the docks.
If none of this ever comes again – I understand – but what I have is this and unless I die and forget it all – 
No one can take this away from me.