Vacating my own premises

I had a very short lived encounter once. That didn’t leave me quite the way I was before the encounter. It didn’t leave me enriched or gifted with things.The purpose of that encounter was clearly not for me to be given something. It left me gutted from my pubis to my sternum, spilling out everything I refused to acknowledge within.

I felt the pain when I turned to walk away. It was not new pain. I had been there before. But none of the cuts ever penetrated beyond that careful layered masquerade of mine. And as I was taking the first step, the depth of the cut took full effect and my layers split wide open, spilling blood and guts. Stopping me dead in my track. All I could do was stand there and watch in amazement how the contents of my own faults and shortcomings kept tumbling out. I couldn’t move. Suddenly I was surrounded by everything that I kept stuffed and hidden away far deep down somewhere. It made me sit down. I think for the first time.

If there ever was a superficial injury or insult to myself ( or my ego, I guess), I would just lick of that dribble of blood, stopping the ooze and not be bothered with allowing it to heal more than on the surface. Avoiding the unavoidable in the quest for…normalcy? I guess. I’m not sure. Denial is such a powerful thing.

So all these wonderful things jumbled out. Obviously some were very familiar and easily recognizable from a life time pattern of unhealthy adaptations. There were a few things that kind of surprised me. Which seems a funny thing to me, since I am the one living with it daily after all, yet if you would ask someone else about these things, they would immediately recognize them as belonging to me.

The beautiful thing about this whole disemboweling experience is that I left all of that right where it spilled. I picked some things up, to examine them. Some took a longer time to look at than others. A few I quickly tossed away, others I had to set back down more gingerly. Nevertheless, I didn’t stuff them back inside of me. Don’t think that they are completely annihilated. It’s not that easy. Engrained patterns are exposed to me almost daily. I have to choose every time if I want to behave or react in the same unhealthy patterns I chose for such a long time. Or to gently step around those things that so easily attach themselves, and instead make better choices for myself, and therefore for anyone else involved with me.