I have these walls. They were constructed long ago when I was a child and let me tell you, I was one heck of a builder! These walls are AMAZING!
They keep me locked tightly inside. They keep my emotions from getting out. I can’t even get out or feel my emotions when I WANT to! The walls are high and thick and deep and wide and strong. Very strong. Massive. I’m currently beating my head against them as I try to claw my way out. I’ve been praying them down. I’ve been trying to dig my way out from under them or find a way around them since I can’t seem to get over or through them. I’m beginning to despair that I may be trapped within the confines of this fortress forever. My walls will be my coffin.
Is there some magic word I need to say? Some formula that will cause them to crack and come tumbling down? Some trap door I’ve yet to find? Some secret passageway?
I am in awe that they were constructed well before I hit my teen years. Oh, I’ve fortified them over the years, but still, this Great Wall of China that runs through my heart, mind and soul was largely complete before I reached the age of 13. Time has not worn them down, caused them to decay or erode in any way or created a breach. I’ve been trying now for years to destroy them, but to no avail. I remain tightly encased. Untouched by emotions, for the most part. I experience a profound level of depression and not much else.
To be fair, we all have walls. Some boundaries are healthy, so I don’t want to completely dismantle mine. But I would like to reduce them to a more manageable size and perhaps include a few windows and doors. I would like to be able to escape them if I choose to do so. I would prefer they not be my prison.
Did I mention that my walls keep everyone out. Everyone. Out.
The bad thing is, they don’t really keep me safe, nor do they really protect me. They give me a sense of security and they numb me, but people can still hurt me. Happens all the time. They can’t hurt me as badly as they could if my ability to connect wasn’t pretty much nonexistent. But they can still stab me in the back and make fun of me and bad mouth me and reject me…all of which still hurts.
The main thing my walls do is isolate me. They do a very good job of isolating me. I no longer seem to have a choice in the matter…my walls have totally taken control. I’ve not been able to regain control, reminiscent of Frankenstein…once created, he had a life of his own and could not be contained! My creation has become my captor. As desperately as I long to escape, that which I created has no escape hatch (bad planning on my part!). I wander endlessly in this maze, this desolate wilderness, beating on never-ending walls that don’t give an inch. I’m weary of beating on walls.