The Paradox of Intimacy

I want so much for them to know how much I hurt inside. But I won't tell them. I want Craig to know when I am not safe, so he can pull me into his arms and tell me everything is going to be okay. But even when he asks me straight out to tell him what is going on in my head, I won't tell him. Baby-Mommy says I can call her any time, day or night, for anything. If I need help, if I need to talk, if I just need to hear someone's voice - I can call her. But I won't. The shrink says to call him before I do anything. But I won't.

I feel so entirely alone but the shrink really nailed it on the head, didn't he? I am alone because I choose to be. I don't think it is the same as because I *want* to be, but I think he is right that it is by choice. I am afraid. I don't want to ask for help because I'm afraid someone will give it to me. I don't want people to know that I'm hurting because they might take away the things that are important to me, even though it is those very things that often exacerbate the pain. I don't want to face the things that are tearing me apart because they will shut me down. And yet, how I long to do just that... shut down.

The shrink said my Wall goes around me, not outside of me. It has been suggested before and I refused to accept the idea. I push things over the Wall when I can't or won't deal with them. The Wall holds in all that stuff and keeps it away from me. It is circular, a burial ground. Yet it is being suggested again, by the shrink this time, that I am on the inside of the Wall and that is why I feel so alone. I still feel my metaphor is valid, but perhaps there is an overlying metaphor. Perhaps both concepts can be correct and are not, in fact, mutually exclusive.

Maybe there is my Wall, inside which I stash my dirty laundry, and an outer Wall of some kind. It feels different, though. When I mentally feel around for an image that fits, testing the waters gently for that "right" impression, I feel certain that my Wall, my huge brick Wall, separates me from everything I refuse to see but have experienced. And I think there is another Wall, like an impenetrable piece of glass that lets me see out but not let anyone see in, like a two-way mirror. I can see what is out there, see it but not experience it; the polar opposite of my brick Wall where I experienced it but don't see it.

Can I break through the Wall? Yes, I believe I could. Will I? Doubtful, without a lot of help at least. I am afraid of what I will find. Can I break through the Mirror? Yes, I believe I could. Will I? Doubtful, even with a lot of help. There is too much at sake that could be lost.

"The seasons ought to be/ Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat"
(Carbon Leaf, "Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat")