To everybody out there I seem calm and collected. I can seem extremely in control, like I know what I’m doing.
And it drives me nuts.
Because everybody thinks I’m completely fine, nothing wrong here…even though inside I’m a total mess. My therapist once said that she didn’t think even the best psychiatrist in the country would have known what was happening to me back then. That I shut it all away, and what I show to people is an entirely different person. That actually made me feel proud, a bit. Someone inside was so proud that no one would know. The same part of me that is so proud when somebody says I’m closed off, and don’t let people in. And it also makes me mad, that people couldn’t figure it out, that I never allowed people to know. And sad, to be alone. And crying out, now, for someone to break down those walls. To not have to be alone with it all.
Inside is a mess. A mess of ages, of experiences, of emotions, of control, of lack of control, of wanting, of pushing, of pulling, of being completely at odds. Outside is a relatively rational, calm, collected, understanding, controlled, unflappable (as my teacher always used to tell me) person.
I’d really like my inside to begin to match my outside now. I’m so tired of the chaos.