August 06, 2012
There is a poison deep within me, more than I could ever have imagined...it fights and resists my every move to see things in a different light. It hides away in moments of peace and serenity, acting is if it doesn't exist. Then, when I'm completely calm, it comes back out of hiding and does its damage, as if nothing had ever happened. It does its best to destroy all that I've been working through.
Moments of insight are forgotten, and the poison tells me what I need to do in moments of frustration, anxiety, fear, disappointment, and powerlessness. Even moments of inclement weather are enough to send it coursing through my veins, infecting me with everything I've tried to eliminate from my life. It tells me,
"You're not the problem...THEY are! Go raise hell!"
It's easy to justify my position, because I'm "preaching to the choir," in my mind at that moment. "Old friends" are awakened from their sleep, and mentally, I become the Incredible Hulk. By now, it's too late to think things through; I'm already on the warpath. It's almost as if a "Jekyll and Hyde" syndrome is taking place. In these moments, I feel so consumed by this poison, that it even encourages me to challenge my Higher Power.
Did you see the madman yelling in the hailstorm because things didn't go to plan a few days ago? That man is me.
The poison? An anger so deep that I find it VERY difficult to flush out of my system. I may once again consider returning to the miracles of modern medicine to help me with this. I'm really at a crossroads right now as to what my next plan of action needs to be. I get the feeling I'm being presented a lesson of sorts, and I'm missing it completely.
I believe that this is parallel to something else that's going on in my life, but I'm not sure. All I know is, I'm still hurting deeply inside somewhere, and it comes to the surface once in while, manifesting itself as unchecked anger. I truly want to find it, and flush it out once and for all.
It shows up in daily annoyances, but I know it's much deeper than that. On occasion, it brings me to tears. I do want inner peace; I really do. Slowly, I'm beginning to realize what it is that I need to do. Just like anything else, it takes practice, and lots of it. Diligence and dedication of the utmost kind are required.
I've only begun to scratch the surface, and at times, it hurts to realize that. I feel as if I'm climbing a wall, inch by inch, sometimes slipping down a few more. I know I can't jump down; I've come much too far, and to do so would bring forth unfathomable heartbreak or irreversible spiritual suffering. I must continue climbing, no matter how weak I feel, or how much my body or mind hurt.
My spirit is NOT in pain, and it will not be stopped by them. Every day that unfolds is evidence of this. When I do something not so good, I do my best to work through it and come to a resolution with the other person. I don't get defensive because I'm afraid of them, or of myself. I don't beat myself up and feel justified in it, nor do I allow the other person's words, thoughts, or actions dictate how I feel about myself.
If I am wrong, I accept the fact, admit it, and do what needs to be done. I no longer wallow in self-pity, thinking myself a failure, or that I'm a bad person. I'm just someone who made a decision that impacted someone else in a way that appears to have hurt them.
Indeed, how they react is their choice, but it doesn't excuse my behavior. Where these boundaries are determined is a slippery slope, and everyone sees it differently. This alone is very hard to understand and accept sometimes. I'll be the first to admit this.
Though I feel weak, weary, and at times discouraged, I continue on the path, propelled forward by my spirit alone, if need be.