I often find myself so busy for the sake of being busy, for if I am not, it leads me to thinking those deep, irrefutable thoughts that I cannot resolve in my mind. It is a diversion, calculated and precise in its conception to keep my mind from delving too much into itself, scared of facing things that I had buried long ago, which lie dormant, waiting.
Dormancy, in itself shouldn't be cause for concern. My son once took Ritalin that caused him to develop eye ticks, which the doctors informed me could trigger dormant Tourette's Syndrome. We changed to Adderall, then it was never again an issue, but somewhere in the depths of him could lie a dormant behavior disaster. While dormancy in that physical sense is welcomed, dormancy in the journey of self-discovery and philosophical introspection seems somehow counterproductive and oxymoronic. Not to mention, scary as hell.
Oh, how uncomplicated things could have been if I were one of the masses whose mind was birthed to live in the moment and acquire people and things like a fool's gold collection for my mantelpiece. My ex-husband is one of those people, as are my parents. They have all accepted their place in the universe and fact and have never felt compelled to question the purpose of their lives. They are content being masters over their individual fiefdom of nothingness, living in a house of cards on a foundation of quicksand, never noticing how quickly their very existence will be engulfed, then consumed. One day, the world will go on without so much as a belch of discomfort from them having been here. That realization hurts my heart, but I am remiss of responsibility for it, although I used to carry it like a sack.
So, as the twilight of my 37th year begins, I have decided that it is time to get down and dirty with a lot of things that draw a line in the sand between my heart and soul. At this point, it is anyone's guess as to what will prevail. I do know that I have spent the last decade of my life, as a conformist, to the point that I am a skilled contortionist entwined with spirituality, religion, hate, disdain, misery, doubt, failure, and most of all fear. These things are woven in, and I cannot find where the true me begins and the indoctrination of the things that others have wanted me to be ends. The outside looks successful and productive, but it is a facade, a life that I have tried to convince myself that I want and covet. I also have no joy or peace in a life that has been mostly self-sacrificial almost to the point of the martyrdom of my very soul. I cannot live this way anymore. Having given my whole adult life to my children, and others who have needed to maintain a raping symbiotic relationship where they just feed off of me, sucking my life force, I say, it is time for me to find myself. My very nature spews self-depriving idioms created in the front of my mind, to tell me how wrong I am for even entertaining such thoughts, however, my ticket is purchased, passport stamped, and the journey must begin.
I believe recently, seeing my little brother go through his own demons and responsibilities that no husband in a loving partnership should have to endure, has led me to start to question things within myself that I know must be unpacked. I was so responsible for him as a young teenager, while my parents were drunk or off to some party, so seeing him suffer hurts me deeply, especially when I am not able to fix it for him.
So...............coming out of dormancy, still scary as hell, but a necessary path in the life of a sojourner.
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