My soul remains the same. My body has matured but my mind has changed a lot, and keeps on changing. In the beginning, it was dark and quiet. I didn’t know how or what to think. Confused, I listened and learned what not to say.
My parents were no help. They were too lost to give directions. I decided, early on, whatever the benefits, alcohol makes you stupid. I don’t drink (but I understand addiction).
My mind had one mission; to protect me. It was good at its job, devoted, yet capable of terrorism. When your own mind turns against you, it’s a war that you can’t win. You need reinforcements, reality checkers, calming agents, a heavy dose of Light. You need to be able to take in Beauty. Especially your own. Yet you can’t see it, and there’s the rub. You won’t believe the ones that do (you want to). And so you’re trapped in your own trap, waiting for the frightened you to free yourself. Paralyzed, you know you hold the key yet cannot use it on your own behalf, which makes the prison worse.
The mind is clever. Cunning. Thinks it can think its way out of any situation and it can, indeed, except when it’s distorted. Then it runs in circles of no escape, a hamster in a cage until, exhausted, it gives in, gives up, admits it’s powerless to change. Grows dark and quiet.
My mind is a place I enjoy spending time now. I no longer let it bully me, won’t entertain or tolerate anything but truth. Amorphous irrationality will have to come back later, when thoughts are better sorted out, and feelings aren’t accusatory.
It’s taken many years to trust the workings of my mind ~ all the work, worth it. The struggle is real. Invisible to most, but I can tell when someone’s engaged in a civil war. The battle plays out on every field and the casualties are the ones you love the most.
The mind wants to be your ally. It turns on you because you’ve given it all your power and it uses that to frighten you. No one should live that way. Tell someone you trust you need help. It’s not a moral issue. No one is a brilliant philosopher in the midst of their own mayhem. It takes a wise and trusted listener to help lay out the tangled threads, and make sense of it all. And once someone does that with you, you can do it for someone else. Imagine a world where we can say, without shame, “I feel lost and alone. Can you help me?”