To write is to share.  It is a portal inward.  The desire to write grows.  Like so many writers, it is a way to express oneself.  To explore the depths of self.  To open forbidden doors.  A place without rules.  A place to shed light, or explore the darkness.  Thoughts can take a journey, as real, and as powerful, as experience itself.

Remember the bug collections you’ve seen over time?  The bugs are pinned, catalogued, named and neatly placed behind glass.  That is how my mind looked at people.  I recognized there were different species.  I wanted to figure them out.  Pin them down, put them behind glass, and organize them all.   It was a way to make sense of a world that seemed nonsensical to me.  This dogmatic categorization is how I could feel safe in a &ucked up and &ucking scary world!

Like most teens I had strong opinions.  The irony is those strong opinions were not original thought.  I was a parrot.  I would hear something, if it sounded good, I would repeat it as truth.  I had the infantile belief there was TRUTH.  I argued for truth.  I saw myself as the “bringer of truth”.

I held these strong opinions.  I spoke of this truth.  My life remained chaotic. It occurred to self to question this schism at times.  Intuitively I felt something was off. The inward journey was so painful; I closed it off.  I felt I had no tools to figure it out, but I refused to follow.  I became hard.  I felt old.  I was labeled incorrigible. The label society gives children when it fears what it has created.   This schism existed all around me.  As they judged me, they continued to live their own lie.

People spoke lies their actions revealed.  

There is a scene in Superman where the cries of humanity are too great for him.  So he hides in the closet.  He hopes to dull their volume.  Finally his mothers calming voice helped him find his safe space.  We all have to find that voice.  We are fortunate if we have a parent who can be this guide.  Most of us have to leave our homes and search elsewhere.  Jesus did!

That is how growing up in this noisy world felt for me.  It was too much.  There was too much pain.  Too much misunderstanding.  Too much anger.  I wanted to scream. I wanted to make it stop.  Yes the hand of judgment silenced me.

So I had places in my mind that offered refuge.  As a young child I developed the ability to fall asleep anywhere.  Often times, I would make outside forts and fall asleep in them.  I would sleep so hard in the car, they started leaving me there after school with the doors open.

I wanted to sleep this nightmare of life away.

The waking world was my nightmare.  Misunderstanding.  Pain.  Attack.  An alien dropped off in the wrong solar system.  A mismatch.  It all felt foreign.  I felt like a foreigner in a strange land.  I did not belong here.  I did not want to be here.  Surely a mistake had been made – a switch at birth had occurred – some outside error must be the cause of the terror I felt inwardly.  Take me back – get me out of here!

My demand to be returned was ignored.  So I slept.  My outward chatter and energy were manic.  Very little impulse or self control.  I may have been labeled ADD had that existed then.  The negative messages were endless about what is “wrong” with me.  I took in all these messages and was impregnated with the virus of shame.  The dirty, slimy, painful, dark and debilitating foreign agent called shame.

This wrong label made no sense when looking around at all the wrongness in the world and those who judged being the most unstable. Nothing seemed to make sense.  The people who shamed, lived shameful lives.  The unkind people screamed of injustice.  The malicious demanded forgiveness and held others in contempt.  Those in power who could help often were the ones who took advantage.

Did you ever feel like “They” scream at you to stand up and then beat you down or silence you when you do? They say speak your mind, then tell you all the ways your mind was wrong.   They said be yourself and then gave a list of things to improve upon.  Do good work but you are nothing without ambition.  It can all seem like an upside down, backwards, topsy turvy rouse and then we blame self for feeling confused.

Children will eventually take control.  Do you remember when you did this?  Have you ever done it?  Some of us get mad enough to say “&UCK YOU” and we bolt.  Some of us shut down.  Either way, this often does not work out so well.  We act out the world imprinted upon us and become our worst abusers and tormentors.  Those scathing voices in our heads that degrade our value and paralyze us in debilitating circuitous story lines!

We watch.  We listen.  Then we do.  

It’s not just what we see in our home.  It’s what we see in our friends home.  It is what we see in church.  What we see on T.V.  What we watch how people treat one another in public.  Then we follow.  It is why someone who is born in Russia, the Philippines, Africa or China will speak a different language, eat a different diet, practice a different religion and always hold a different world view.  The world around us influences our development.

There are a few rebels who pave their own path…..  This usually happens only after some self inflicted battle scars and age.  Most of us flock to the sick or perverted; and we set ourselves up for some more abuse along the way.

Perhaps it’s because the sick and perverted make anything seem ok.  

They normalize the crazy world.  They tell us we have a place.  They exploit our confusion.  I recently read that denying our fear gives people the ability to control us with it.  We see this in the Priest who abuses, the colts, the beaters and the gangs. They are often the ones offering a safe space while others judge and condemn.  They capitalize on our fear and need for belonging.

A rare few offer a safe space for enlightenment.  Perhaps that one self help or religious group whom assures us our transgressions are not who we really are.  A teacher at school, the guidance counselor, the stranger who had a smile of love when we felt unloveable.  These are the ones who have woken up.  They love us.  They practice the higher teachings of love and tolerance.

We may have been led astray by even the best intending guides – now we have a choice!  Who will we choose to be?  Do we continue to shame and silence our inner voice?  Do we continue to torment ourselves as we felt tormented?  Do we become the abuser – the shamer – the rager – the apathetic?

I choose joy.  I choose courage.  I choose to practice self care and self love starting with the things I tell myself in every moment.  I choose kind thoughts and loving messages to comfort self when I’ve made a mistake – relapsed into limiting actions – or even acted out unkindly.

I love self and assure her if she was not overly  tired – afraid or worn down she probably would not have acted this way.  So I’m not bad.  I’m in need of support and love – and that must come from my own inner choice right now about what message I’m going to send self.

What are telling yourself?  What would she say?  What will you say to her? Who will you be in the world today?  Will you be that safe space for others?  Will you be that loving guide for self?  Will you choose to wake up – go within – and start to find your voice?  I did and I am and its been terribly painful until it became exquisitely joyful!  I’m worth it and so are you!