Why Me?

hello! how can I help me?

I cannot help but fight this imposter syndrome.

This dark depression, it is dreary, and a deadly cryptic voice of hate, of denial, of worthlessness.

Despite it all. I choose to keep creating.

I couldn’t tell you I believed in myself a year ago.

I could hardly look at myself in the mirror.

Each morning I would awake nauseated, with deafening thoughts on an endless loop.

Fighting depression, among other scenarios, but the worst culprit was this boisterous, and vulgar voice of incompetence, fraud, and worthlessness.

It would creep in every so often to remind me of its' existence, and utter control of my nervous system.

Most of the time I would hear it when I was doing well, achieving goals, or claiming my space, and insuring my boundaries.

I am not sure as to when we first met, but I do know that this intense, and abrasive voice within me has toppled my ego, spirit, and fully functions on my deepest fear. That I am undeserving. Even if 'it' may be mine, there is someone else who would use it better.

Whatever 'it' may be - this imposter manipulates all systems into manufactured, and fraudulent feelings; and so began the infamous cycle of unacceptance, and manifesting lost opportunities.

Listening to this imposter, this fraud, for lack of a better word. I had denied my soul it’s own existence, and the consequence was that I was rotting from the inside-out. The body it has called home had rejected her with every turn, and silenced her voice.

My hands where wrapped around my own throat, and my soul screaming from my ribcage to be set free.

I started to share my craft. Despite that crude voice, insisting on my failure. I started to share, in spite of it. Going against the imposter itself to reclaim my voice, reclaim my life. I started sharing everything, writing more each day. Not just after meditation, or when I felt compelled. I forced that tiny, and obnoxious voice into submission, and asked it why it felt the need to place falsities within my accomplishments.

I asked the imposter where it originated, and what it needed to cease. It desperately needed me to stay fearful, to stay closed off, to stay silent.

So, I continued to share.

I spoke less, and created more. Instead of judging I became the observer, and asked many more questions on the page, rather than off of it. Instead of screaming into the void begging for an explanation of 'why?!' - I began to train myself to ask 'why not!?'. I forced myself to share more inked pages, or the smudge of led stained palms with like-minded kindred spirits.

My intuition began to speak again; this overwhelming feeling that this is just what I am suppose to do, floods over me daily. As my intuition began to feel safe enough to express itself, in turn my ego began to rebalance itself. It began to show up in times of success, and force this roaring imposter out. Allowing me to claim something that we all take for granted which is success.

By us all celebrating our success it allows this subtle chain we are all apart of to move. To excel, achievements' need to be celebrated because of the energy it puts into this experience. By me accepting my accomplishments, my success, it opens up the frequency of abundance for all of us on this earthly plane. My own soul was beginning to reclaim its' heavenly gifts, and unspoken magic.

It continues to tell me to create, and to share. To not overthink the process, and remain present in nothing but concrete feelings. Which is just anything one can experience only here. The intangible.

It would certainly explain some of the experiences that I have been unable to shake. Sticking to my bones, creeping into the marrow, suffocating my blood. There are things I have seen, witnessed, and it may be morbid but I know I cannot be the only one suffering silently.

So lonely, and lost, but tackling the days, and harnessing the positive synchronicities. Scrambling for the ‘someone will understand this - resonate with this - I cannot be the only one seeing this'.

My answer has yet to show itself, or be reflected back to me in another person or experience; so until then, I must do as a I feel called to do. Fight these feelings of unworthiness, and create a space for myself and others that is safe enough for our souls to patiently reclaim their potential.

Those moments are beginning to happen when I put myself on the page. I can feel the blood flow back into my body, and the stiffness subside.

For once I am doing solely what I have always secretly wanted to do. Just be myself, fully without restraint or judgement.

Just human finally doing what their soul feels called to do, with a desperate desire to be able to celebrate, and accept the abundance that openly flows to them.