Wednesday, May 7, 2014

My Battle


  One of the hardest things, the battle I lose most often is the one I wage with myself. I try daily to live in a place of peace, to be kind and to wish harm on no one. Most days I am fine- then there are the days the battle is lost and I find myself, always in tears on the emotional battlefield angry with myself for falling into that pit of anger and hurt that leads me to push those I love away and to strike out at those that do me harm. It is not that I wish to wound them, I simply wish to be left alone, to be left in some semblance of peace. I wish nothing more than to hide.

  I would much rather spend the rest of my days in solitude than in battle. I grieve the pain that I have caused, intentionally or not. I shame myself over my own cross words. The thing I despise most about being different, being broken, is that my first response to any threat is always to take up my armor. I am ever in the warrior position, even as I desire only to be the peacemaker.  I try. I fail.

I do not have the skill set. I so envy those that do.

  I have been told that I am fearless. That I am brave. I am not. When I am frightened I take my cue from the puffer fish and balloon to my full height of 5'1" and my attitude, I am sure adds a few more inches as well. I make noise, push out. It is all that I know. I must change. I must learn to be softer, to stand back. How will I learn this?
 
  I sit here writing these words and I am filled with a great fear. I know I must grow past this and yet I am unsure that I can. The small voice within me, the one the warrior protects protests. "This is how I have survived. If I let go of this shield the world will swallow me whole. I can't"

  The thing I want least to do in this life, the one thing I will not pardon myself for is hurting others.  To be willfully unkind is a wicked thing.  I inadvertently brush up against other's feelings often. I am brisk and forward, I have no tact. I hear these things from others and I try to soak their words in. To make alterations in myself, but my tongue is quick and healing from sharp words is slow. I am at a loss. I must grow past my own limitations so that I am not here again, in tears, failing and cursing my own survival system.

  There must be some way to breach this dark place that I find myself continually rounding back to. But how? That small voice beseeches me "I stayed quiet so long. I kept it all in and now, I simply cannot" how can you ask that of me? There is a balance I must discover. I must master my own fear and my reaction to it. This is going to be hard, all good things are. I will fail. I will fall down. This is life, bad things are going to happen. I will learn to live in peace anyway.