This journal of sorts will now take a turn, and change into something new - as will the person writing it. In order to grow as a human I must understand myself all the good, the bad and the ugly. As such I will be storing research and thoughts here in relation to such a subject as what lies beneath the cracking walls of my inner defense.
This post is the beginning, and as with all beginnings there are terms which must be gone over and explained - such that the definition and use of said terms is set in stone.
First off, mental walls. Mental walls are formed by people under extreme emotional distress and are typically formed to function as a protection from the situation they deem unacceptable. These walls become their safety and their most imminent danger. They will seal the person up, cutting their ties and preventing them from making new ones.
Secondly, unreality. I will use this term loosely as it is simply easier than explaining the realm between reality and dreams that exists within the mental walls of one locked in one's own head. Think of this as more of a reference to a place than as a term objectively defined.
Finally, the beast. The beast is me, and I am the beast. We are two sides to a whole, always at war and never willing to give an inch to one another. This ubiquitous explanation will seem to fit like a glove the deeper into my story I get. You will understand the duality of my existence, or maybe not - we'll just have to see.
Today I set out on a journey to try and understand the feelings I sealed away so long ago, feelings that have set unattended for sixteen long years. Opening old wounds is a painful thing, but I have no time for weakness - no time to bleed. There is only to scar over and to move on, for growth is not something that can be put off until tomorrow, no - now I must grow or perish.
A short note before I end today's post:
My mental walls function in more ways than one. Their obvious purpose of keeping unwanted trespassers out of the deeper reaches of my conscious being is merely a secondary reason for the existence of my walls. My walls are primarily there to separate me from myself, to keep locked away that which should never be set free - my unbridled wrath and my inability to stably control the beast.
For sixteen years I have let anger, hatred, depression, and probably the most desperate times of my life sit and writhe beneath the shadows of mental walls. For sixteen years I have denied myself the ability to heal, to forget, and to let go. Over time that writhing mess has been twisted, contorted to a beast of a nature I am unable to deal with. I am at war with myself, and I can't blame my other half for being pissed that I left him in the cold abyss to grow morbidly hideous. Sometimes survival leaves us with few choices and without the luxury of kindness however, I did what I had to do.
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