Darkness
The darkness doesn’t have any answers. I know this. Yet, when I’m faced with emotions I cannot contain, my first instinct is to withdraw. I pull a dark shade over my thoughts and surroundings to hide the pain inside. I hide my vulnerability.
I grew up believing that it was embarrassing to be vulnerable. True strength had no holes. A person worthy of respect was a superhero. Impenetrable. Invulnerable.
I tried to hide it. I tried so hard. I lied and deceived myself, and everyone else, somewhat unsuccessfully into believing that I was stronger than I was. That I am less vulnerable than I am. Possibly the biggest mistake I ever made. Am still making.
The darkness only grew. It began to consume more and more of my life. School. Friendships. Family. Conversations. Eventually, it got so big that there was nowhere left to hide. I was the darkness. I cried in the darkness.
You have to let go of this dark weight you’re carrying around. It’s a very romantic notion that all the garbage and pain is actually healing, beautiful and poetic. It’s not. It’s just garbage and it’s pain.
The strongest are those who are willing to be vulnerable. To put their thoughts and feelings, fears and emotions into words and out into the world. Those who are willing to be themselves. Those who are comfortable with themselves. Those who trust themselves.
