I’m starting this blog because I’m trying to rebuild myself and I don’t know where to start.
A couple of years ago, the pressure of everything I really believed and who I truly was, building up against the boundaries of what I was taught was acceptable, became so great that I combusted. As I burned myself up, I burned a lot of people I loved and cared about. Every bridge I tried to cross in my desperate search for help, not realizing the fire was coming from within myself, caught fire in my wake. I frantically tore down the barriers of what I was taught to believe, hoping that without them in the way somebody might be able to put the fire out, but nobody ever came. I finally tore open my skin and scattered the embers of my soul around me and let them sit until the flames went out, and now I’m picking them up and stuffing them back in and trying to sew myself together.
As I sit here, needle in one hand and pieces of myself in the other, I’m looking around and trying to see if anything is left. It’s hard to tell because there’s still smoke in my eyes, but it appears I’ve stranded myself on an island. I’m alone now. A couple of people know how to reach this place, by boat or by plane, but it’s hard to get here when the weather is bad – and the weather is often bad.
This blog is my bed sheet tied high to a tree as makeshift white flag. This is my “HELP” spelled out in stones on the shore. This is my attempt to let the world know that there is a person still here, still alive, and hoping to be found someday.
It’s not so bad here. I’m not entirely alone, and there’s plenty of food, and I’m not in any danger. If I were to spend the rest of my life here, the tragedy wouldn’t be my loneliness. The tragedy is that once the fires went out, I discovered that this place is overflowing with resources. I’ve discovered an abundance of fruit trees and edible roots, strong hardwoods and durable fibers, rich soil and fascinating creatures. I have more than I could ever use here, and I want to share everything I have with anyone who might need it.
This is me attempting to share what I’ve discovered here. I’m not sure what I’m doing, or where this will lead, but I know that I have to do something. For now, I’m writing for myself, in the hopes that maybe I’ll find myself building a raft out of these words and floating back to the shores of society on the waves of the internet. It’s more likely that this will become little more than carvings in trees which will die and rot away long before anyone sees them. At the moment, though, I’m not interested in the outcome. I’m interested in process; I’m doing this to build momentum and keep myself moving. If a ship ever comes my way, I want to be strong enough to swim out and meet it. I am not content to simply wait and hope anymore. I need to work. I need to build. I need to have something to show for all this time spent here.
So, this is my beginning. Some days it will be like this, prose-ish and rambling. Other days it will probably be more literal, with maybe some of the anger that I’m still learning to express in constructive ways and the ranting I am currently trying to keep out of the remnants of my past personal life. Sometimes it’ll probably get personal, diary-like.
I like being open, I enjoy sharing myself and my thoughts as completely and honestly as possible. I am not afraid of making myself vulnerable. I am not afraid of being truly, deeply known. I am not even afraid of being hated (especially because I know nobody could ever hate me as deeply as I have hated myself). What I fear is hurting others with my openness. I don’t want to burn any more people or leave any other places scorched the way I desolated my past. That’s really why I’m here: to be completely and truly myself, without making anyone feel obligated to watch or listen. This isn’t about being seen or heard. This is about being.