This morning I awoke to feel nothing. The silence overshadowing everything within my life. I've been here before, many times, a few times, more than that, depending on the second or minute you ask my mind what’s right. Or wrong. A lot of wrong. Some right. Either way, despite the circumstance, what will be is just that.
You've heard plenty of sayings, the memes of life, the instructions that hardly no-one follows despite always agreeing but me, I, this person here, doesn't believe that if it doesn't kill you, you’re made somewhat stronger. We seldom learn from mistakes unless, for the moments where we hit the rock’s bottom, we realise that we’re our own best, worst, enemy. The evil outside, this world we inhabit, comes from within each of us. We blame, we point, we harass and we send out such stupid hatred that the innocent within corrupts. Absolutely.
I want to remain open, we must remain open, but life just isn't giving me, or us, the opportunity to heal and move forward with ease. You reach out, to hold a hand, maybe to simply speak, yet our own safety imperative clouds the view of what other’s require. We are selfish, I thoroughly admit this, to you and every single person out there, with the caveat that I actually do not wish any other person harm.
So what is this feeling, or lack of, that’s growing, or dying, within. It’s that safety feature. It’s within each of us. It stops me feeling, caring, wanting to give a damn, for any other person. You know what I mean. You've probably been there yourself, scratching at the walls of your own mind, asking for rescue and seeking the assistance of another. In the end, when we have done what we've said, we know that realistically we are our own rescue.
What can someone else provide for you? If you’re mentally strong, to a point, you know that involving others into your own sordid recovery is best left alone. If you’re mentally broken, damaged, smashed into small bits, then seek help, involve the correct people, the official people, but until then, recover your own way.
Maybe this is all normal. Maybe I need to repeat those words to myself. We all need to revert to being a caterpillar at various points of our lives, we do, as long as we eventually return to being a butterfly. I need this transition. We need to do this yet, for some reason, we do see far too many caterpillars out there within this world.
Last night I could feel the doors closing. Slowly, With purpose. I don’t like the feeling, I don’t relish the lack of emotion, but within all of us there’s a thing called a heart. Or a soul. Or our mind. Depends on what we believe, what we understand. Me, I, this person here, realise that it’s all within my mind but the young starry-eyed fool wants the three to be separate. I want to think with my mind, love exclusively with my tremendously caring heart and, finally, embrace you with my soul. Or, in other words, just hold your hand. Such a simple thing yet it’s absent from so many hearts/minds/souls of this land.
I'm not going crazy, as I'm rationally looking within myself, testing, knowing, realising the emotional state that’s happening. Learn this. Hold this. Understand yourself. Avoid the outbursts of pure emotion. We’re no longer children, in ways, able to discern the complexity of the words and thoughts that threaten our stability and poise.
This morning I awoke to feel nothing. The silence being a long-forgotten friend of mine. We chatted, for the smallest of times, exchanging notes concerning how things have changed over the years. I am more mature, I have grown, refined the processes ingrained and defined from outside assistance. It’s amazing to feel, or not feel, the change. We can learn, we can protect ourselves. Believe in your own minds capacity to run for safety, to heal, to become something stronger. I do, despite the process, so see you on the other side of safety. The other side of feeling… nothing.
Please remember that, unless stated, blog posts are works of fiction. (With a sprinkle of experience)