Doctor Costin’s frustration with my lack of progress in our last session has really got me thinking about why the hell it is so hard for me to do anything that gets me anywhere.
So let’s try to hash that out.
The first level answer is : fear. A deep, overwhelming Leviathan of fear that crushes me like the water pressure in the Mariana Trench whenever I try to leave this tiny little shitbox of a life of mine, even just psychologically.
I can dream all I want. I often do. But like I have said before, as soon as those dreams try to turn into actual plans, the fear comes and ruthlessly kills those dreams and buries them in a shallow grave.
But where does this life-ruining fear come from? What does it mean? And what function does it serve in my psyche?
Where it comes from is one tough nut to swallow. It’s such a big part of me and it’s been there for so long. It binds and defines my life. It’s hard to imagine it not being there, even in the past.
But I know there was a Before Time, when I was functional and going somewhere. I know I have the strength and power to get pretty far in life if I could just leave this shitbox life of mine behind. I know nothing is holding me back but myself.
What the fear means is that I have a deep down terror of having to deal with the real world. On that deep level lies a belief in the ultimate hostility of the universe towards a malformed runt of the litter like me and the connected belief that I am far too weak an fragile and insubstantial to survive in the real world.
And I know that’s crazy, I know that the mean ol’ “real world” has no dangers I could not easily handle. I know that while I have my psychological issues that make it hard to cope sometimes, I also know that I have enormous strength of spirit and the stubborn determination to back it up when I need to do so,
But the fear remains. Deep down I still feel like an abandoned puppy. I still feel small and weak and completely incapable of making it on my own.
So I withdraw into myself and stay there instead.
Clearly, then, the function of the fear is to keep my world small and predictable and calm as a response to the chaos and danger and hostility of the world as I see it.
If I could somehow convince that frightened little animal inside that it’s safe to go out into that big bad world and find my way in life, I would be in a much happier place.
Some very deep healing would have to take place first, I think. In many ways, the root cause of the fear is the pain I feel from the wound being raped left.
When you are so deeply broken that it hurts to face the world, it doesn’t take long for that to turn into fear of the world in general.
So how do I fix that ancient injury?
More after the break.
Ice as hard as stone
Where was I? Ancient injury, right.
Well whatever I do, if it involves change, I have to dream it before I can believe in it.
So let’s try to think past the problem.
Imagine I am healed. I have successfully dislodged and melted the ice as hard as stone around my heart and I am finally free to live and breathe and strive and thrive and be the full on amazing person I know I was always meant to be.
I have a job that pays me a comfortable living, my own apartment, a solid and reliable boyfriend, like-minded individuals to do things with, and the respect of my peers.
So how did I get there?
My first thought was “I got better”, which is hardly helpful.
Somehow, I found the deep strength to pull that jagged dagger from my heart and deal with whatever consequences may result from it.
After all, pulling the dagger out might have destroyed my heart instead of saving it. Maybe that thing was all that was keeping me from bleeding out.
But I didn’t care any more. Fucker had to go, come what may.
Now that I’ve dreamt it, I can feel it. That dagger in my heart. And I can imagine grabbing that fucking thing by the handle and ripping it out of myself like I was trying to become the next King of England.
It would probably hurt like hell, but fuck it. I am not afraid of pain any more. It’s just pain, It happens then it’s gone. It sucks but I am at least mature enough to be able to see past the pain to the vast relief I will feel at having the problem solved finally.
Like getting a bad tooth pulled. It hurts like hell when it happens, but then you feel so much better with that pain gone.
I might feel pretty bad right after, too. That kin of transformational change does not come easy. So much of my fundamental self is built around coping with that dagger and making sure not to touch it or aggravate it that when it is gone, it will leave a big hole into which a lot of the bits and piece of my being will fall.
It will be messy and painful and dirty and chaotic and for a while, it not seem like pulling the dagger out only made things worse. Where there was (terrible) order there is now nothing but (productive) chaos. How is this better?
But I know that is temporary, I will build myself anew. Build back better. Make use of all that freed up human capital. Harness the power of hope for once.
And when all else fails, I will deploy my secret weapon: raging egotism!
Fuck you, I’m awesome! And I am going to steamroll over all you weakass motherfuckers who try to get in my way.
I’m one of the most talented, intelligent, and quite frankly amazing people alive on planet Earth right now, and it’s high time for me to rise and shine like the magnificent coruscating life-giving magical star I am.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.