Touched My Soul



If you know me well enough you know I’m a bit of a smart-ass. I have certain friends family members that if I didn’t “pick on them” they’d know I was either dead or going through a real bad time. With that said, I am learning, ever so slowly, to be mindful of my month. The reason is because words matter. I remember as a kid being a bit of an oddball or at least that’s I was told. For whatever reason as a child I seem to have a permanent “Kick Me” taped to my back. Each morning getting on the bus was a trauma do to some of the taunting I and others received. While I could go on about the damage bullying can do, I think my writing speaks for itself on the subject. What I discovered as I got older is that my sharp wit could get me out of some bad situations. So my years as a smart-ass were born.

Earlier this morning I spoke at length to a young person on a forum site I participate in for individuals with issues like myself. Listening to his/her story touched my soul, because in a lot of ways his/her problems were similar to my own. In my reply I wrote about how being honest about your situation with yourself and others that in the long run was one way to break free of the chains of anxiety and despair. And believe whole-heartedly that is true. For a really long time while struggling with the panic and anxiety I suffer from in silence. Even as I was pursuing my education and looking for better employment, I kept up appearances on my social pages of a bright, ambitious, go-getter all the while still having moments of deep anxiety and depression. The medications I took helped me keep up appearances, but the toll they took on my personality and character I’m still deal with today.

It wasn’t until the pressure to be “normal again” became so unbearable that I realized hiding from the world was hiding from myself. So after my extended stay at Club Meadows Regional and my continuing recovery have I come to understand being honest with the world helped me be honest with myself. So here I am a year since I nearly drowned in my own fluid, much like my dad did over 20 years before; listening to another young person afraid and scared. So many of us wear various layers of armor, some wear armor of toughness to hide the fear they carry. Some wear the armor of indifference and cynicism to bury the feelings of pain. Whatever the armor you have on if you cannot be at least honest with yourself you’ll never be free of your chains. 

Life is way too short to waste it holding on to grudges and fear. Until we start to at least look at things from the prospective of others will never find peace within ourselves and with others. What I’m saying isn’t some “cum-by-yah” incantation or temporary “we are the world” moment. It’s an ongoing look at life through the prism of empathy and compassion for ourselves and for others. So that just as we learn to forgive ourselves and others, we can learn to live with each other. Becoming honest with ourselves and the faults we all deal so that the seeds of hatred and pain cannot take root again in our hearts.             

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