As time goes by, sadness sets in permeating through every fiber of my being in a cloud of silence. Anger goes away with the chilly winter wind, anxiety slowly dissolves into nothing and all that remains is sadness and silence.
It’s very easy for me to just let myself drown in sorrow and remain quiet. D
While dealing only with myself I have only my own demons to fight and everything else is landscape. However, there is little to no growth this way, there’s almost no evolution.
Sometimes all I want is to go to sleep… And remain sleeping through an endless night.
“You’re overreacting” some people say. I confess that I do have a knack for the exaggeration, I like to embellish the stories I tell and yes, sometimes I do increase the intensity of what I say I feel. But this time…
Is this now a case of “Peter cried wolf”? Are my feelings being “downsized” because of this flaw that o have? “Oh, but being a story teller is not a flaw”. It is, when it turns on me and bites me… Hard. It is a bad thing, a flaw, when I try to tell someone about my feelings and it’s received as being just one more of my “story embellishments”.
I am walking a path of evolution, and specially of tending to my wounds. This is a long and difficult path, but nonetheless, I am walking it. I finally chose to go through with it. There’s a lot of pain involved. Pain that has been there for a long, long time. It has remained hidden, no.. not hidden. It has remained tucked away in a corner. Neatly stored by myself in a compartment of my being. I always knew it was there, but never really felt it. I never dared or allowed myself to feel it.
Now, I’ve opened my Pandora’s box. I took a chance and in a swift and bold move, opened the door and looked inside. And I am feeling pain.
It’s not a physical pain, it’s a pain of the mind, of the heart and it’s overwhelming.
Seeking help is the only option I see, and that is what’s going on.