During the last two years I have felt some intense emotional pain. Pain that I wish would go away. Pain that has driven me to breaking points, and threatened my sanity. And even though I am experiencing resolution with the cause of the pain, I feel a deep need to mourn. I’ve had to be strong because I was fighting for my life, and the thick of the battle is no time to lick your wounds. But now that I’m back on safe ground, I feel like being angry. Like throwing fits and screaming. I need to feel the pain, cry out my heartache, and gain back the power that was stolen from me.
It’s funny… only when the fire is removed do I feel permission to burn. And everyone around me may be saying, “Why is she screaming? The fire is gone.” But my pain was stored away so I could survive. And now it is simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be released.
I want to swallow it. Pretend it doesn’t exist. That now that the fire’s gone, everything is okay. I can’t face more pain. But doing so will hide my heart away. I will become a shell of myself and turn grey.
To be free again! To feel so in love with my truth that nothing, not even the deepest hooks in my heart, could deter me from it’s discovery. To stand beautifully, towering over my enemy.
But the pain. The pain cages me.
I stand on the cusp. Frozen in time, holding my breath. Waiting for the wind to make a move. And nothing is safe. No ground hallow, no whisper too sweet. All my surroundings are threats. The world my enemy.
“What will she do?” they say, all eyes fixed. Waiting for the moment of truth.
“TRUTH! TRUTH!” I want to yell it at you and scream your name until the truth is clear and the pain goes away.
But I stand on the cusp. Waiting…