I am an alien on this Earth. I am humanoid. Everything about me would suggest a complete Earthling. That isn’t so, however. I tick differently than others. Upon growing up, I didn’t feel comfortable in my skin. I saw myself as a regular human and thus tried to be one. I acted upon logic rather than my heart. I was miserable.
Later in life I was able to live how I believe is my true nature. There no longer was the need of calculating, observing and need to try to like everyone else. I was free. I was happy and comfortable with myself finally.
Not many people seem to get that, particularly my head doctor. She sees me as human as her and perhaps would consider my feelings about myself to be negative, hindering and so forth. In all reality, when she encourages me to expand my horizons, search my potentials and the like… she sends me right back to how I was before. I will go along with it. It is my rational side that allows such. I fall back to putting the feelings of others over mine.
I can convince myself with thoughts that there is a positive possibility. Change is necessary for growth and discoveries. I know not the future or what can wait for me there and by staying still, I might never find a happiness greater than the one I posses now.
The problem is, my heart holds no interest in that. My heart only allows these mental arguments to persuade because my heart wishes to please others. It doesn’t overcome my true feelings though.
When younger I thought I was quite a logical, philosophical individual. I hated my emotions and ignored them. I didn’t like to think myself as sensitive or fragile in that aspect. If I allowed such, I’d never make it. Not in this world.
I know better now that it wasn’t hate, however. It was fear and desperation. If I had given into my emotions, allowed them to be truly expressed… I would cause troubles. I’d be crying all the time, worrying or bothering. I would be weak because I just couldn’t handle what everyone else were able to do so easily. My feelings can be hurt as easily as a bubble can pop by seemingly nothing due to its utter fragility.
I am different. I realize this and embrace it. I am at peace when able to live how my emotions wish to. When unable to… I feel trapped.
When I step out of my natural state and try to be like the people about me… it is like before. Breaking down, crying, suddenly disappearing to hide is not acceptable behavior. I must cope. I must endure. I cannot fall into myself or rescue myself. I can only shield and try to make it inch by inch.
First there is pain. I do not allow myself to cry though. No one else about me would cry and feel devastated by such a little thing. Since feelings will only lead to that, I become logical. My mind becomes persuasive and I struggle desperately against a raging tidal wave of emotions. I try to listen to my mind as it controls everything. Most people can control their emotions if they really try. I’ve always tried my damnedest.
Despite such a desperate obstacle, I continue on. The rest of me shuts down. I close off enough so I will not weep. I become rigid and silent. I put all my effort to keep the flood from engulfing me completely. I shut off my heart a bit to keep what control I have in me.
Once I’ve managed to dwindle the flood to a stream, I’ll become mechanical. I am guarded suddenly, because if I am not, the flood can resurface quite quickly. So I carry on, talking to myself, rationalizing with all my might to keep calm. In that I become detached as well, because if I do not do that pain will take a sudden spike again.
And thus, in such a state, a simple doll… I walk among the normal. It is the only way I can survive otherwise. Unlike all the other fish who require water to live… Water simply makes me drown.
That is what it is. I am not dramatizing, I am not fantasizing. It is simply how things are. It is not fear of what could happen that keeps me at distance. It is experience time and time again. No matter how much I can convince myself otherwise with my mind… My heart knows the truth. Inside I know the truth.
For me, pain is the most likely scenario. I don’t expect it every time. I know better. I just know with how I am wired I have a higher chance of that over joy. I know because like how my senses can be rather sensitive on a physical level, my emotions are more so.
To go against my emotions, to sway myself with logic for others… I am that fish who cannot live in water submerging herself to please others. I’ll choke and gasp, but I have managed to hold my breath and find few precious air bubbles often enough so I do not die.
But to do such relentlessly again like how I did in my past… I don’t think I’d be able to survive living like that again. I really don’t.
It isn’t only that, however. To continue such a thing, I would lose myself. I’ve lost myself before. I know that to do as my head doctor asks of me will lead to such a devastating place again. To live like others, I lose myself. I lose my true feelings. I am merely a doll trying to be like all the real boys and girls around me. She doesn’t realize this. If to hear these thoughts, she’d likely think it preposterous. I know myself quite well though. I do not care what one might say about not knowing everything due to the inability to see from the outside. I know enough.
I suppose what I am getting at here is… I do I believe I will die. My soul will die. It was near death once before. I almost lost it completely, but it cried out with its last breath. after all this time it is now revived to its fullest. I don’t want my soul to go through that again. I don’t want parts of it ripped away piece by piece. I don’t want my heart to be stabbed slowly over and over to the point that I fear to be myself and lose my soul.
So yes… a part of me will always fight this… subtly. I don’t fight it with full force… I have not reached such a strength yet. It is stronger than before, though, because before I never would have made a peep to the doctor or my mother. I fight it because in a sense it is a matter of life and death. Because what I wish to keep alive is my true self… my identity, my feelings, my wants, my desires.
Once upon a time I would never consider such. That was because I feared it would make me selfish, putting my wants before those I loved. Now though… now… I think it is okay to. It is okay to because I am protecting a life. I am protecting my life for once. Now that I have found a better world… a world I never saw possible in my bleak youth… I want to keep it.
I’m not strong enough to demand, to truly fight the wants of others… but I have hope… I have hope that one day they will see. They will see this is just me. It will always be me… and they will accept it. They will finally accept it.
Like Van Gogh is quoted, “I wish they would only take me as I am.”
Ah… Wynne… if only you realized your wish to see my potentials only hurt me more than help. Each time I undergo such trials, it makes me take a step back rather than a step forward. You just don’t seem to understand that.