Silence is golden

Suddenly I don’t want to talk. About anything. I’ve opened up far more than ever before and I don’t like it. I don’t like the tracks of tears laid bare across a screen.

I used to frequently hear how enigmatic I was. Yup. Because inside was a maelstrom and I daren’t let on. When I did, it pushed people away. It still does. That sucks actually.

I find returning to the enigma stage really very appealing right now. Opened up, shocked people. Been needy for reassurance, seeking validation from outside when it should come from inside. Put people off. Now I might run back into my burrow where it’s familiar, warm and relatively safe.

My mind is still a whirlwind. I daren’t share its contents. But at least this time I’m trying my best to stick with therapy. I have to find a way to trust my therapist to lead me places I don’t want to go. I’ve no idea how I’ll do that, but I’ve got to try.

And hope that if I continue to fake it, one day I might actually believe it. I might believe in myself and practice loving forgiveness for all that I am.