I’ve always had a blaring intuition that would not take to suppression easily. As a child, my connection to this inner compass was severed and it left me a hapless wanderer, looking for something,someone to tether my soul-less self to. But even my own shadow would leave me when darkness approached. So whatever or whomever I’d attach myself to would be transitory, like the pleasantness of a summer’s afternoon. I knew it was fleeting which made it all the more tortuous. I was in constant pain; before finding the next object of addiction,whilst I had it, and after it inevitably dissipated. It was like grasping at the clouds, or trying to trap water in the palm of my hands. It was not mine, and not mine to control. What was meant to be a pleasure, turned out to be a source of anguish.
I had all sense of certainty eroded by well-meaning adults telling me what to think and how to live. I spent my first decade being taught why my feelings and urges were wrong and destructive. And once I entered my adolescence, a time when I was supposed to find my own in this world, I was plunged into even deeper confusion. Self-doubt had taken root and all kinds of torments ensued. If I couldn’t trust myself, what was life? I lived life in a state of constant hypervigilance and fear of the slightest change to my house of cards. I was so frail that I was certain I was a blow away from annihilation.
I was truly lost because I was stuck. I could not step out of my comfort zone and I was effectively imprisoned by my fears.
Now, after so many years of searching for the source of the bellow of pain that’d rip me apart every time I tried to defy it, I finally found the severed connection to myself.
I found that self-doubt invited fears,obsessions,addictions,compulsions,depression – gremlins who festered on my abandoned soul; like squatters who claimed a squalid and dilapidated house as their own. A house that once was wondrous in its grandeur, had now been neglected into oblivion, erasing the past.
And I found that I can’t eradicate the self-doubt, because it’s not a state, it’s the lack thereof. Like darkness, it occurred in the absence of something. Which is when I found the source of the agonizing howl; my intuition.
My inner voice that had been buried under the rubbles of my eroded self-certainty.
It’s a bit frightening trusting this voice, because I can still hear the gremlins from afar. But now, every time I hear them I know it’s self-doubt and not an impending catastrophe and that for the first time in my life I can relax even in the face of a mighty storm.
And because I have found an enduring tether that would never fail me, I can finally enjoy life in all its transitory splendour.