When there is something important in our lives, something bigger than all we know, it pushes through the walls of our lives. It screams for attention, corroding all the other connections we have build for ourselves, until we are unable to know else. It blinds us from seeing things in perspective and devours all of our knowledge. The things we have known fade and shrink, and blur in comparison, while that one thing screams like an awful spoiled little child, taking it’s toll on our lives.
It grows under our skin and eats up our very being, and while we may not always see it on the surface, we can feel it’s there. And when it has eaten away on our being, only then we want it to stop, only it doesn’t.
By the time a scream reaches the surface the sheer force it gathers is bigger than everything we know. It has build up, slowly, surely, at the place where we haven’t left anything else to grow so far. By that time the scream is so strong that it blocks our thoughts, mutes our hearing, rejects our voice, until we can’t realize there is anything more to life.
By that point, healing is hard, because we can’t fight something so big with a single thought. We need to take our life apart, pick the pieces and connect them again, to allow ourselves to be more. Nice people, nice places, who cares? The noise pulses, pushes to the surface, swallows our understanding of the world, mutates, scrambles our knowledge of things.
Who have we been before now, before then, before the noise? We have pushed all other feelings under water because it hurts too much. But the scream build up of millions of screams over the years can’t be covered up by a moment’s desire for something nice.
Screams are like magnets at the center of our lives. And when we are so drawn to them, and sticking to them, if we realize this isn’t the place for us, we may chose differently. But to do so we need strong will, strong belief. We need to find another center, and build around it, and grow it, until it is big enough to concur the old one. We need to hear its sound and see its colors to know there is something better. Getting to build over is hard, because we have to do it consciously, while screams build in the dark corners of our minds without us noticing. It’s hard because we have to think of every detail, and hear it over the screams, and make conscious choices to get to something better.
In this past 2 months I have pondered over every single detail of that summer, leaving no stone unturned. I cleaned my consciousness, and my memory of all the dirty past gathered in there, and scratched until everything was clean, until everything was squeaky clean, and sore, and bleeding. Every feeling I had pushed down these 2 years had resurfaced and screamed for attention. I got so devoured into that pain I stopped seeing straight. People seemed darker, colors more muted than before. The faith I had was like matches in the dark, minute’s explosions leaving no memory to remind that once I have had a fire in me, keeping me alive and pushing me forwards towards the things I want.
I knew I needed stronger faith that this one, but the pain screaming in me had twisted my view of the world so much, I saw no way to move forward.
Until I chose.
I no longer want to live in the dark.
I no longer want to push down my feelings until I can’t avoid them.
I no longer want to live in a glass house, avoiding the outside world, so that I won’t fall again.
I no longer know what I need to do to recover.
It might take thousand things, thousand matches, to regain the kind of faith I have had before.
But through the scream, through the pain, I finally felt something, and I chose.
I want to live.