I
have inadvertently opened the proverbial can of worms, not realizing that I
still had it tucked away in a dark basement behind years of accumulated
compensatory mechanisms. I’m not
sure exactly how it happened as the process took a few months to build up. The
past year has been a text book list of major stressors; the end of a
relationship, family illness, job changes, and financial stress.
I
had become pretty skilled at maintaining a façade in my interactions with other
people. Witty, smart, flirty or sexy depending on the audience. In my mind
these were appropriate coping skills I had carefully crafted in order to
overcome severe depression and a host of other issue. When I recently met
someone who was very open and honest about his battles, I became empathetic. I
suppose in the past, by not dealing with others issues, it was easier not to
deal with my own. Soon my tightly
closed eyes began to open. As they did I started to see myself, not as one who
had defeated and overcome, but instead a weak and scared man with no idea how
to deal with this new flood of feelings.
Finally
I reached a breaking point and completely lost a grip on my ordered existence.
I lost my appetite, couldn’t sleep, and I cried like a blubbering idiot. But
what of the worms? I can’t just put them in the same types of containers from
my past. I need to use them as bait to lure in more honest emotions. For the
first time in years I am looking my fucked up mind square in the eye, and it
scares the shit out of me!