I have spent most of my thirty something (you expect me to admit it) years as a creature of fear.  Fear of what my parents think.  Fear of what my teachers think. Fear of what my peers think.  Fear of not even knowing what I think.  My consciousness has been contained by it like a trapped animal, and pending its release (or spontaneous combustion), I am faced with another fear.  Fear of letting my fear go.  It is my motivation, but it is a cruel motivator because it misguides me into saying or doing things that are not of my true self.  But, what is this true self that I am searching for?  I haven’t a clue.  But, I know upon it’s release from its captor there will be peace and hopefully, it will help me find what I am searching for in this path I have put myself on: creativity.  But, what if I have too much light?  I am so accustomed to my darkness.  I’m the girl who can kill with a look. Electronics overheat in my presence when my tension is high.  Can my energetic self have this same power if I give it over to a different purpose? Can I still be me?

This is probably the most rambling and preposterous post I have made thus far.  (There’s that fear of judgement again).  But, these are all things that have weighed heavily on me.  I feel that, of course, if I give up this fear and make way for a more positive, and thus creative, use of my energy there will be bountiful benefits.  Sometimes I feel what it must be like on the other side, and it feels really good.  I let myself occasionally enjoy a few moments there, and then the fear returns.  It is a part of me.  Proof that it is still in possession is that I cannot even put my damn name of this blog.  The two of you who read it know who I am, so it is completely ridiculous that I am still to afraid.  Which leads to a whole other aspect of my fear.

Not only am I afraid of what others think of me, I am afraid of what my true feelings will do to others.  I do not want to hurt anyone, but inevitably, I will.  My twisted mind is a product of not only my own coping mechanisms, but also those who forced me into their creation.  Facing those issues and forgiving their perpetrators is a while other aspect of this process that I fear.  My past hurts and disappointments are the foundations of my soul’s prison which makes them a foundation of me (at least the earthly me that stifles my creativity).  Forgiveness would be their only undoing.  But, again these grudges (for lack of a better word) fuel my decisions, my thoughts, even my values.  This should not be so.  Forgiveness, I have come to understand, is not something you give to the usurper of your trust, but something you give to your self so that you may find peace.  I am beginning to understand this concept.  However, it does not quell the pangs of fear of letting it all go.

I don’t even know how I got from fear to forgiveness, but I guess it needed to come out this way.