I couldn’t cry.
I just couldn’t.
This was something I’d known about myself for a long time, but never took the time to explore.
Strange since I was an emotional kid, who cried all the time, at everything.
But as I grew older, I grew colder.
Numb.
And what replaced authenticity was advertising.
I wanted to be a movie poster of myself.
Something that had no weakness.
I wanted to be something that was MORE everything than whatever it stood against.
I chased image and illusion.
There’s a whole list of never ending problems that come from such a superficial aim, but the worst of all— it caused me to hate myself.
I didn’t know I did.
But by rejecting (and suppressing) all the things I didn’t like, and those things being a part of who I am— I killed my own self and substituted an actor.
I thought I was weak for having flaws, so my solution was to become someone who didn’t, and only fictional characters don’t.
Without ever noticing, I was successful.
I couldn’t feel pain anymore…
…but I couldn’t feel joy or love either.
I couldn’t feel anything.
I was dead.
No one could tell.
Not friends, not family.
They thought I had everything going for me.
I tried talking, but my words couldn’t reach them.
And they couldn’t reach me.
What was said, was never heard.
I couldn’t send or receive.
My connection to life was severed.
Not love, not hope, not affirmation, not even a fucking cry for help.
Dead.
I lived this way for most of my life.
Here, I started searching for what I thought I lacked— not soul, but success.
Material.
And of course, I never got it.
Because my dis-ease wasn’t physical.
It took more than one thing to realize that. It took years of relentless pursuit. Of chasing the wrong things. Being a loser. Being a failure. Being alone. Being nothing.
It was ONLY when I sat with my nothingness, when I sat in truth and left my character to withdraw from the charade of my life, then I found it.
Me.
During this deep dive (a 3 month journey of introspection) I found me, actual me, the child behind the mask.
And then AFTER YEARS of being DEAD— I cried.
I cried like a baby that had just been born.
I cried because I COULD breathe, because I was ALIVE.
I woke up for the first time.
Whole, Different, Human.
If you relate to any of this, the one small but most significant thing that SAVED my soul is this: BE HONEST with yourSELF.
I didn’t realize that the masks we wear, FOOL us more than whoever we put them on for.
When you’re thinking about lying or pretending, remember, you’re literally gambling with your own self.
Is that something you can afford to lose?
-Fool
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