‘Do I have something to say? Yes I do. But where to start is where am not so sure.’
Thoughts that I have whenever I try to picture myself in a therapist session. Its funny how I want to heal myself without having to let someone in. The walls that have been built can put the great wall of China into shame.
She tried her childhood, teenage years, early adulthood, her mid ‘ what in the world is going on’ years but they always miss something. Something that she cant remember. She doesnt know when it happened,but it happened. She can feel it, taste it, hounds over her like a halo, but she couldn’t name it.
She read psychology to try and find it out but she couldn’t. Only thing that came out is that she learned about people, their behaviour, their patterns, their characters. She learned them so good, so good that she knew what to say or what to be. But she slipped every now and then, but she always got up. And from there is where her walls started being erected. The world was her dancefloor, she knew it yet she couldn’t stand up and do the cha-cha.
But now she is at the corner, no escape, no excuses, no stories. “Is this the breaking point? Is this what they say make it or make it?” Everywhere she turned, eyes were on her, of loved ones, acquaintances and strangers. Some hands were stretching with hope on their faces. Hope, of which she was. And it was time for her to stand, as wobbly as she could, and do the cha-cha.