Stuck in the Grey

My eyes are clenched tight, whether it is to block something out or to search inside, I cannot tell. It feels like I’m trying to find a reason that doesn’t exist in a haystack of steel colored, gray nothingness. The nothingness is closest akin to a dense fog and has mottled striations of black and dark grey; they blend together, tumbling without moving, moving without movement. There is a glass-like reminiscence to the fog. It’s impenetrable, and at the same time, the desire to go into it conflicts with the energetic resistance it radiates. I feel like the answer that will allow for peace and freedom is in that grey mottled, molasses-like chaos. It won’t let me go into it, so I take a different approach and breathe deep with the hope that my deep breaths might shift the fog to yield some insight or perhaps to make the density of the fog dissipate.

My eyes are streaming with tears, blending with the translucent salty mess that is simultaneously running out of my nose and mouth. The psychological pain is excruciating in an intangible way. It doesn’t want to be known or understood and yet, I feel my freedom lies in knowing and understanding. I can’t get to it. My forehead is furrowed, I think of the wrinkles the pain is causing, but I know it doesn’t matter because my face already dons the grooves of high-intensity intervals of psychological pain. The furrow in my brow and the downward sloped lines of the frown on my face bow me over into fetal position. My hands rise to my face as if to protect me from the onslaught of discomfort that is my current felt experience.

It is of no use, however, the pain is not attacking me from the outside, it emanates from within and it feels like it is a part of me. Its qualities are ineffable and ominous, an omnipresent, deeply rooted part of me that refuses to be known and refuses to vacate. How this squatter came to be in my body is beyond my logical brain. My feeling is, she is a wounded and terrified version of me and only allows herself to be known in moments when my current self gets so overwhelmed that she is the only one left to take center stage. I think she keeps me focused on what is outside of me so I won’t have to know her. I think she is protecting me from knowing what truth she holds.

What I don’t think she realizes is that I have grown up. I have more tools and resources than I did when she took residence. I want her to know I can handle the pain. My heart has expanded to be with overwhelming experiences of joy and sadness. I am resilient and I have an army of people who love me. I want her to know she doesn’t have to suffer, alone, in the darkness any longer. She is allowed to come out and be known, all of her. She doesn’t have to protect me anymore, I am her protector, it was never her job to protect me. Finally, at this stage in my life, I am capable of loving her, unconditionally. She and I can be one, she is allowed to be known and to take up space in this body of mine. Whatever truth she holds, it is ours and it is in the merging of our selves that we can be free again.

You have been cloaked in shame and I am so sorry for this burden you’ve had to carry. You didn’t know any better. You were innocent, I am so sorry I left you alone and cut you off, I didn’t know any better. Please let yourself be known so I can love you. We can be free, together.