We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Saturday, 9 July 2011

Unleashing the Apocalypse



“Self-censorship is not just self-betrayal and self-abandonment (which would be bad enough), but soul-betrayal and betrayal of our Muse, out inner voice, our highest self.”
Too often we censor ourselves, our actions, and our work in hope or fear of what might happen if we otherwise don’t. What words would you write today, and what actions would you take, if you had nothing to fear, nothing to lose?



This is today's prompt in the #Trust 30 challenge that I recently found. This actually started in May I think so it's not actively going on or it might be and I just don't know which is totally possible. Anyways I just found it and as a few of these prompts speak to me I thought I would write about them. I really need some focus right now because I am just lost in the darkness at the moment. 


Self-censorship. I do this A LOT. I know if you read my blog for more than 5 secs you would not really think that I censor myself, but I do. Especially in real life. I hate confrontations. I hate rejection. I FEAR abandonment. I worry about displeasing. I very rarely say what I truly feel. I do this mostly because I think what I feel is wrong. I am wrong. I feel this deep within me that I am always wrong. My thoughts, feelings, actions, all wrong. So I don't say what I truly feel or want. I edit my thoughts and shape them around what I think is appropriate. What I think the other person wants to hear in hopes that they won't reject me. Abandon me. In hopes they won't become displeased by me. Stop liking me. 

Leave me. 

What is the strangest thing about this is that in many ways I truly don't give a flying fuck about what people think about me. But yet I do this and I don't know why sometimes. The fear that grips me at times is so overpowering that I just become a slave to it and I am forced by demons from within to alter my true thoughts, feelings, emotions, words. A vicious cycle  begins and I get so lost in trying to be this "person" I have created that I lose myself and become unhappy. This makes those around me unhappy. I appear "fake". Stop pretending is something I get told a lot. Yet in many ways I am not pretending, but I am. I convince myself that I want and feel what my mouth is uttering even though I truly don't.

I get so lost in trying to "be" that I forget who I "am".

Jigger was the first person to truly see through my bullshit. To see that there was something under it. Something more than just a game. He pushed me in front of the mirror. Forced me to say the things I didn't want to admit. Not even to myself. Forced me to open my eyes and I have become much better at not censoring myself. 

Except in my writing. I don't often truly say what I am feeling. I write in riddles and metaphors that I am certain people would never understand because I don't want to deal with the shit that comes with having to explain where I live and how. I don't want to have to answer the inevitable questions that come. I have answered them so many times in my life and for now I am done. I just want to be alone but not really. 

I don't really want to be alone. I just want to be allowed to be the me that I am instead of the me that I should be. The me that lives deep inside of me. The me that has never seen the sun or felt the rain in its face. I just want to be that me without having to explain why or how or because. I want people around me who accept that flawed broken me. Only there are very few people who are like that. 

What words would you write today, and what actions would you take, if you had nothing to fear, nothing to lose?

 I would tell my children the truth. The real truth. Not the PC truth. Not the truth that is padded or bent to keep them from feeling pain or hurt, but the complete truth. Except I would never do this because I could never hurt my children. I would rather they hate me. I never want to be the reason they hurt except I am and I don't know how not to be. 

I would tell you how the delusions of bipolar have removed my foundation. They have made me doubt myself so much that I don't say what I truly feel, want, desire because I am not certain if it is real. I lived for so long inside of a delusion that now I never trust myself. I never believe that what I am feeling is real. Being fake. Saying what the other person wants to hear is real. I have lost the ability to trust myself. Trust my feelings. I have lost the ability to believe that what my eyes are seeing is real. That what my ears are hearing is actually there.

The delusions have broken me in ways that I cannot explain and now I feel very lost. I don't know which way to go. I don't know what is real and what isn't. Bipolar has broken me in ways that rape and abuse never did. It has taken from me my ability to believe in myself. To believe that what I am feeling is real. 

It has taken away "me".




3 comments:

Aimee said...

Now THAT was powerful. Oh, how I would love to respond to this prompt. I too fear. But my fear is slowly being consumed by bravery. Be brave. Be willing to take a chance on reality. You have faith in your spirituality. You have blind faith and are brave enough to believe in and openly practice your spirituality. It's not too far a leap to turn that faith toward yourself. Take a chance on yourself. You are real. And you are worth believing in.

lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog said...

you always kill these prompts...kill

I don't think you realize (because i don't get my deal because of my illness) how strong and just straight kick ass you. You cut through your stuff and find the truth when you write.

thanks for letting me read this. It's an honor to know you through this blog.

Kim said...

Reading this makes my heart hurt for you. I don't even have a few words to soothe you. I don't know why some of us are born lucky, and healthy and some of us aren't. just like I don't know why some of us are born into terrible poverty and some of us aren't. It's one of the things about this world that I want to teach my kids. THEy are not entitled, they are lucky.

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