Tag Archives: time to move on

The Eclectic Path The Storyteller Must Talk

I am not what one would describe as ‘an open book.’

I tend to be a bit closed with feelings and emotions and all that jazz, preferring to self soothe over self-pity and self-suffice over self-indulgent.  However like the rest of the populace, when things are out of my control on occasion I have no option but to react to other people’s behaviours and this can lead to a little self-reflection after the fact.

On this occasion, the catalyst was my inability to lie

If I were a different person I wouldn’t feel the need to start considering the permutations a lie can take and the damage a single untruth can bestow.  If I were a different person I would have let the molecule of fantasy roll off my tongue and guild the surrounding air with the taint of falsehood.  If I were a different person I may have smiled a little at my own tenacity and silver-tongued my way through the intricacies of the literally landmine-strewn conversation topics until the lie was sold.

But I’m not, I’m very much me and I did the only thing I could have done in the circumstances without actively incriminating myself and yet at the same time provided a response tantamount to an admission of guilt.  I offered a self destroying answer that not only convicted me but also laid open my internal struggle over whether or not to stick to the truth.

I did the only thing I could have done being the person I am.  I hesitated.

In that single moment of hesitation I considered the pros and cons of perpetuating the lie, the actions to be taken to continue the story and propel the sinking account into the ether to be taken as gospel or torn apart.  And I considered the moment in the future when the truth would emerge, battered and bruised from its fairytale cocoon, and whether by that time the truth would still be a beautiful ally or perhaps an ugly stick for the beating.

I hesitated and therein lay my answer.

In hind sight I should perhaps have answered fast and false to save further questions, accusations and recriminations, but I am not that person to whom a lie comes easy.  However I am also not the person to feel obligated to prostrate my life and times on the line for public scrutiny and peer approval.  In fact if there is one thing I value above all else it is my ability to compartmentalise, my skewed views and my right to keep both to myself.  Both in my head and in my life.

Hundreds of pigeon holes litter my world, literal, metaphorical and symbolic.  Tidying away the stray thoughts and random musings scattered across my days, pulling up the emotional trickles that would follow the scars of past wounds and keeping track of the plethora of philosophical nonsense connected to every mis-stepped slip, slide and stumble along the road I have travelled.

To ask to see the intricacies is not only an affront to me but to the careful and crazed paths of the world I’ve built; the very world from which I watch the path’s you’ve chosen, laid out like brazen roads flaunting their straightness, their destiny, their certainty.  Showing their strength and power and sense of purpose.  But look closely and I see the rigidity allows no deviation, no about-face, no change of mind, of heart.  You have your paths, I have my holes, to ask to trawl the depth of mine is to request the very access I build my maze to prevent.

And yet you, who have known me so long, seen me so well and had every opportunity to learn, have come up empty-handed.  How can it be that you look so hard and harsh and only come out with exactly what you went in with?  What did you hope to achieve.  Beyond asking, you assumed to take what isn’t yours to be shared and tear it asunder, fluttering the pieces of my calm across the tides of your anger like ash through the breeze.

I guess you forgot that boxes is not all I am.  For I do not like to lie and prefer my crazed maze to your open paths and emotion strewn ways but that which makes you different makes me curious.  Whereas that which makes me different you simply do not comprehend.

Whatever I am, whatever I do, however I do it, I’ll always have something you can never understand.  If all else fails I can retreat inside and spend time and again within my boxes, reshaping, re-learning, reorganising and if needs be; retrying.  you with your rigidity and structure mean you see no other option, you see no other path you see no other right.  And left, to your own devises you may emerge unchanged from the maze, but rest assured you will have left with nothing.

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‘The time has come’, the Walrus said…

I cannot utter the first four words of that sentence without swiftly following them up with the latter three.  It’s like an incomplete statement if I don’t.  Unfortunately that sentence often only comes out to play when there is some decision I need to make or unpleasant action to be undertaken and I am girding my loins to take it.  Procrastinating is the other thing that comes out.

‘Girding the loins’; who does that nowadays? Moving on…

The time has come, some three months after beginning this, to return to life as I once knew it.  Time to leave my sanctuary, my bolt-hole and rejoin the society I have left behind for over quarter of a year.  And I just don’t really want to.  Oh, it’s not fear of what has changed since I have retreated, it’s not even worry about how I will slot back into the place I left behind because that would all too easy to do.  It’s not even concern over whether there is a place for me the way I left things or whether the tide has come in and washed away the footprints I left behind.  No.  My trepidation is due to the fact I know I’m not the same person as when I left. And I have no intention of fitting neatly back into the sunken hole I left behind.

  1. Health

Upon my departure I was sick.  Not in an infectious, illness kind of way no, but more in a withheld, withdrawn, incapable kind of way I can only see now with hindsight.  For two years I have been a shade of me with tranquillised edges.  Now, I can feel again beyond the L5/S1 vertebrae and have found that desire to keep feeling this way for the foreseeable future.

Not only that, this is the most I’ve exercised in a long time and I’m actually enjoying it.  Who knew recovery could be so damn good for you!

  1. Happiness

Having avoided looking at what makes me unhappy – beyond that vertebrae combination – for some time [the only attempted foray into it ending in disaster from some dubious decisions, calling into question my confidence in my own judgement – all in all a depressing and counter-productive exercise], the time to confront what has dropped me lower than the stereotypical Essex girl’s knicker elastic has been more than a little terrifying.  But also incredibly enlightening.  As a wise and trusted friend has told me on more than one occasion, ‘you cannot change other people’s actions, only your own and how you react to others.’  Looking at what makes me unhappy has also made me face what truly makes me happy and how much I have been neglecting the positive in my life without meaning to.  And as Nickelback have taught me, ‘It’s hard to see through bullshit when it’s up above your eyes’.  I was in fact a self-fulfilling prophesy and now I see that, it has fulfilled its last

  1. Selfishness

Mm, to the crux of the matter.  This is something I have forgotten recently and have frequently rearranged my plans to suit anyone else’s intentions rather than my own.  And this is something I have recently decided need an overhaul.

I have always believed that the word ‘selfish’ gets a bad rap.  To be selfish is defined as being ‘concerned primarily with one’s own interests’, which so many people would agree is a horrible way to live and that selfish people alienate people, lose friends and will in general die lonely and alone because they have lived their lives purely for their own gain to the detriment of all others.

However at this juncture I would beg to differ.  At what point did making yourself a priority become an evil to rival the seven deadly sins?  Since when did putting yourself first become behaviour worthy of disgust?  And just when and where is it written that you must, at all times, put the needs and desires of others before yourself in order to avoid committing such an immoral taboo?  Believe me, I am just as anti ‘selfish, self-centred, unrealistically full of their own self-importance twats’ as the next person but to be perfectly frank; if we’re not selfish once in a while who else exactly is going to primarily concerned with one’s own interest?  Because it sure as hell isn’t going to be anyone else is it?

  1. Insight

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.  But a little further knowledge is always appreciated.  From time to time I look at myself and wonder if I have it wrong.  I thought I knew me pretty well but time and perspective has made me realise I’ve underestimated a fair few points about me that actually should be considered important.  It doesn’t matter what they are and quite frankly it’s not anyone else’s business but there is never anything wrong with a little extra insight into your own world.

 

I have changed in three months, to the extent when I’m starting to like myself again.  I’m not the person I left behind and I have no intention of return to her sorry shell.  I’m perhaps apprehensive, maybe sometimes anxious, a touch tentative and possibly even a little scared of what is to come.

But the one thing I am not doing, is hiding from it any more.