My heart is still broken. When I allow my conscious mind access to what is deep inside, I can still feel it. When I quiet myself, I feel the pain, the loneliness I am trying to cover up with life, with adventures, with volunteering, with wine, with friends. It is still there, underlying everything I do. It prevents me from getting in touch with myself, from slowing down and hearing my own heart. It is very deep and colors everything dark purple. How I long to be free from this pain. If I cannot heal, I will never be free. I will need to cover up my interior, to hide from myself, to disconnect. And how can I ever be whole if I am disconnected from myself?
I have been running. I know this. Of course, I have experienced many amazing things and I know I have encouraged many people along the way. And maybe this will just be my reality from now on. But I feel there must be a settled place, a place where I feel good again. I am driving myself into the ground, with no recourse, and I see the end of this road is not a good one. How do I escape from it? How do I find a road that is paved with life, not destruction?
I feel I must make a change, but I am afraid to do it.
I am afraid to face the pain. But if I don't, I am afraid of the ramifications of that too.
And now I am supposed to write, write about Mr. Sugar and Chicken Bone and the adventures I have had, which could be great stuff and should be easy to do. But in order to plug into my creative side, I must brush against that pain.
And in the brushing, all I can do is gather my life-force into my breast and hold it there, away from what hurts. All I can do is retreat.
How can I escape from this miserable prison I am in?
And so off I run, doing anything possible to hide from what is inside.
And those who surround me see my life and envy...if only they knew.
Describe what you're looking for in as much detail as you'd like.
Our AI reads your request and finds the best matching books for you.
Popular searches:
Join 2 million readers and get unlimited free ebooks