I continued to ask myself that question, ‘What the hell is going on?’, in the years to follow, but the things that would stir the question became the most trivial of things. I mean, a bad breakup with an unknowingly mentally unstable partner or drug deal gone bad were not scenarios anyone chose to find themselves in but knowing the backstory at least made it make some sort of sick sense. But a 10 car pile up on HWY410 because someone didn’t like the guy in front of him only doing 20 kilometers over the speed limit had apparently become an acceptable reason to cut 4 different cars off with the staunch intent of getting in front of said 20km over speeder to give him the finger and cut him off…or maybe just shoot him. In my very humble opinion, what I continued to see happening around me, and maybe even in my very own car when I was the one being cut off and finding myself uncontrollably screaming expletives with my little human in the backseat saying, ‘What does (insert four letter word here) mean Mommy?’ was a strong indication that society was spinning out of control. Something had to give.
It was three years ago, right this very moment, I sat on the side of my bed, covered in bruises, blood vessels bursting, hemorrhaging, on the phone with TeleHealth to ask them if they thought I should go to work or not. I intended on going. I had already missed a full week in the office for the muscle I had locked in my hip days before. I didn’t want to miss anymore time at work.
It was easy to pass it off as not a big deal. Like I was being a big baby. I should just suck it up because duty calls.
I used to live life in a box. It was pretty from the outside. Well decorated. It might have looked like the kind of box others might like to live in. I went to lengthy measures to ensure it was well maintained. Inside of that box was all of my fears and on the edgesContinue reading “In Pursuit of Repressed Emotions: The Journey Back to My Authentic Self”