What do you do when you are losing who you are and there is no new you to serve as a replacement? Where is the old you going, anyway? Is it off frolicking on a higher plane or has it retreated, dying off unused?
Is it plausible to think that old part could be reclaimed in order to fill the void and obtain a sense of normalcy again, even if in theory only? Or, once that part of you has gone, does it change shape to ensure that there is no chance of it fitting, even if it could return? What's done is done?
So, now the old you is neither recognizable nor useful. You know what it is, misshapen though it may be. But it all boils down to a twisted memory that sickens you although you can't quite remember why.
And what of the other side? Do you start anew? The old is gone, so what remains? Nothing. So much nothing that you question whether it is potentially invasive or if this black hole was somehow released from your core. Out of those places left vacant by the retired parts of you long gone.
The battle rages on and you fan the flames to hasten the search, the result. A self perpetuating whirlwind has you childishly clinging to the few old parts that have not fled or been cast out. A lesson in futility, isn't that what they say? You are all too aware of that void; the all pervasive presence that is fully the lack thereof.
By now, you should be reconstructing. Molding, morphing, forming new parts. For the soul, for the psyche, for the places in between. But somewhere you were robbed; left with only empty spaces which in and of themselves take up the place where all the new parts of you should have settled.
But now you know it. And you hang your head. The old is gone, the new has been thwarted by literally nothing. Your life has fallen apart while you watched. You find that details are sloughing away but that becomes a way of life, a safety net of sorts.
Always, triggers present. They find you and lay on torment that will wring you with an emotional intensity to rival a clash of titans. Over and over again. There is no hiding.
This is your punishment for not knowing how to put the pieces together.
~
8 comments:
Lord knows I need me some new parts....
:(
i am no one to give advice.. woo wee i could trade in a part or two for sure.. but maybe the old part goes for a reason and something new comes... (ok reading that back sounds jibberish) uh, ok, how about eckhart tolle? how do you feel about him? i'm on oprah webinar class for his book. it is facinating, a bit hard to undertand at times but maybe just what you are looking for? yikes,
well check it out if you like.
http://www.oprah.com/obc_classic/webcast/oprah_anewearth_main.jsp
if I didn't convince myself that some sort of valuable lessons have been learned from the events that have caused the old me to retreat, I think I'd have an even harder time with the MEs I've become
Flux. Always a stressful state. I sometimes wonder where the ideal me went to. The think it doesn't matter because the imperfect me probably has a more interesting and varied life despite the occasionally bout of peevish misery.
i am a big believer in Taosim: "if you want to be full, let yourself be empty."
GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Sadly enough, your words echo my thoughts to an uncomfortable degree. I miss the old me. I was strong back then. I'm not strong now. I used to be able to dig down deep during times of trouble and draw upon my inner resources to get me through. I find now that there isn't much left and I end up feeling fearful and wretched. I hate this part of me.
anduin ~ it's interesting that you feel that way when in a way I'm kind of jealous that you even had a chance to get to know the old you
I've spent my whole life feeling like the old me died when I was too young to ever REALLY get to BE her
does that make any sense?
Kitty - Yeah, it makes sense. I'm sorry to hear that you never got be the old you. I don't know what happened but I hope someday you'll find your true self and be happy with her. She's there, and she's probably a lot stronger than you might realize.
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