Inside Out World

Sometimes I feel the pain of the world crushing me down.

I know, lots of people feel this way.  I am nothing special.  I am actually being very self-pitying because there are millions and millions of animae who have life SOOOO much worse than I could even imagine surviving, and here I am whining.

And crying.  At work no less.  Again.

I don’t know how to stop.

I have to stop.  Sooner or later someone is going to say something about my emotional attitude, how I am bringing everyone around me down, how I am a negative force for the team.   I will not be able to deny this. 

But I keep triggering.  Comments about multiple wives, or ‘changing’ their life style (well, only maybe) because they are getting married, or marrying a younger woman, or Hooters, my favorite euphemism to hate ‘Gentlemen’s Club’, or anything that I cannot escape because I am at work and I must keep working.  Disrespect, lack of professionalism, but no one seems to notice or care.

But I am dying inside. 

My strength is so ephemeral.  I barely feel solid, maybe, mostly inside this physical form, sort of together, working towards some sort of focus, and I get hit again, and beaten down, and pushed over the cliff where I was clinging for a few quiet moments after months and months of falling and falling.

And people are being beaten for real, and raped, and tortured mentally and physically and psychically and spiritually. 

And I am whining about betrayal due to addiction and lies and my best friend turning out to be my worst enemy behind my back.

So I take in all their pain and wish I could heal us all but I can’t even heal myself.   Maybe I don’t think I deserve to heal.  ‘People hurt all over the world.  There are children starving in China.’  I don’t ever recall those exact words aimed at me, but I grew up with that sentiment in my soul.  How dare I complain, be miserable, feel sorry for myself, when there are real dangers and horrors and pain in the wider world.  Sadists and serial killers and bloody tyrants and Khmer Rouge and Myanmar and Iran and Germany, holocausts all. 

I could never be a spy.  I have no tolerance for pain, mine or others.

Am I so weak?  Am I just lacking all proper boundaries, having had them overrun by my mother my entire childhood?  Do I internalize so much and externalize myself so that we are one?  Is that really wrong, to become one with the world?  To move into the world then back into myself?

He says I put words in his mouth.  That I just project my thoughts and that he doesn’t say those things.  Classic Narcissist speak.  Maybe I am completely crazy.  Maybe I am simply that arrogant.  But I know that I can sense his deep, internal dialogue, his subconscious motivations and desires and drives.  That is my gift, my curse.

So, why didn’t I notice the middle range, not sub, not super, that inner mind where the lies were built?  Where he could deceive me?  I could have accepted that darkness, walked in his shadow land with him.  Instead he shut me out and treated me with hate and preferred the company of strippers and prostitutes.  Now I cannot go those places dark places, any places, with him because the pain is like walking through broken glass, and the navy blue horror lives completely in my brain as I was so terrified it would.  Self fulfilling prophesy?  All my own making, my own fault???

I try to sing my magic song to myself, but I don’t believe it yet.  I only manage a weak chorus as if from a great distance.  There is no power in that voice to change my fate, to rework my inner dialogue, to bring me golden light of healing and create a more positive outlook into this disaster area.  The storm has wrecked my shoreline and left its detritus so far inland.  I do not know where to begin cleanup.

The cards said my project was done.   I had the strength to bare my burden through the lands of nature, unseen by men yet acknowledged by my inner world, nature, trees, the wind and the moon.  My travail was coming to fruition.  Emotional stability and happiness and peace and understanding of my place in the scheme of things arrives.  I just need patience, to let these things run their course.

I am so damn tired.  So tired.


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