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Rated: E · Other · Biographical · #2244525
A reminder for the days I need reminding
Years were spent, laboriously, carving a person and personality from a past of layered trauma, degredation, extreme violence and an inferiority complex that almost swallowed me whole. You worked hard, you still do, ceaselessly pushing to overcome long ingrained negative patterns of behaviour and reactivity.

You've come so far, created strong foundations of yourself, and layered a person atop them until you became a cathedral of passion, intention and lust for life. You decorated the walls with serenity, deep inner peace, the smell of rain, the feel of sand beneath your feet and the sun on your face. You have climbed mountains and kicked goals you never thought you could. Every birthday once felt like a ticking clock you wished would stop and now they come a monument of achievement.

Sometimes you forget, that the world you've built around yourself is not fragile. Windows may break but the cathedral will stand.

You tend your gardens, an endless endeavour, battling a harsh and dry climate forever in the pursuit of life and something beautiful. You save stick insects and bugs that wander into dangerous places, just to ensure the world is a little kinder than it was when you awoke. Your compassion and empathy have always been a Pandora's box, a vulnerability because you've spent so much time in the dark you can't bear the though of anyone else sitting in it alone. But sometimes, you can not be a light within anothers dark. You can only wait until they seek you on their own.

Youve been tormenting yourself, internalising burdens that are not yours, allowing your old insecurity and uncertainty to cloud and overwhelm your mind. Youre laying awake tortuing yourself with days that could be, both good and bad. You think, rethink, overthink every scenario until they all become imprinted on your ribs, every beat of your heart pounding against them. You know what you need but you've been holding your words as if they would gain value in the crush of your fist. You fear an answer so you cower from the question, instead lamenting, holding a hope you may have no right to, preventing progress and ensuring yourself more tormented nights.

Firechild, you live in extremes, you feel in extremes and this is not a fault. You've never been one to bend to fear, always ending up on roof tops or high tree limbs even though heights race your heart and paralyse your mind. Theres a question burning you up, all your excuses for not asking it hold no weight. The answer may break a hope you are holding, but a continuance of delay will not lessen the blow. It only prolongs your self inflicted torment, your sleepless nights. The answer may be beautiful, may grow flowers inside your mind. But whilst you hold your questions the only thing you ensure is a pool of stagnant expectation.

You have always needed someone to ground you, remind you where the surface is when you've swum so deep water fills your lungs. You finally turned yourself into that person. So listen to yourself now.

Don't doubt your instincts, they have never failed you. You are a cathedral on a mountaintop, so stop acting like a tarp in a tip.


Jan 16

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2244525-An-open-letter-to-myself