This rusty old boundary here has protected me from the bad… yet also shut me out from the good. The good being opportunities in life, innocent promises of a good time, and most of all… freedom. Freedom from the loneliness within this fence I call home. Freedom from the eternal hell for which I live through, constantly, every single day. In my head.
This fence has taken quite a beating these past few years of my life, ever since the day I was born. The idea of calling in for a replacement has lingered, yet… I find it difficult to even pick up my cell phone and dial. I find it difficult, the idea of strengthening my boundaries, for I worry of the good life I will miss.
For the idea of also, ripping down the boundary may leave me helpless without the safety of my own home.
I became quite comfortable living behind this rusty old fence. Yet my heart yearns for freedom, for acceptation, love, friendship… as the voices in my head scream to just stay the way I am. To not care about the outside world. That I would be safer if I just stayed behind these boundaries. That being constantly alone is a good thing, and that I should keep it that way. To just call in for a replacement.
The replacement being, solid concrete walls.
I haven’t called in for a replacement, but I have finally managed to call in for help.
This is that call.
I don’t want to be heard. I want to be listened to. And all I want is to be free from my own fence. Free from my anxiety. Free from my own mental war. Free from the mask on my face that seems to never come off. Free from constantly locking myself away in shame.
…Is it really that hard to just be care-free?