Basement Apartment, Utilities Included

This is a throwback blog post from 2009? 2010? I'm unsure. I just feel compelled to share it again for anyone who might need to hear this message. I included my TBT self because that girl - right there - came through a fire that stirred her soul into the unmatched freedom and joy she has now. <3 - Becca

Basement Apartment, Utilities Included

Fear. Communication. Discussion. Vulnerability.Those are words that many of us think we actively embrace. We talk to our neighbors; we conference with close friends. We laugh and cry, trade stories and give encouragement. But most often, when it comes right down to the very broken moments, we have no one and we feel alone. Why? Because when life has bled us to the very bottom, to the very last drop of resilience, we've already talked to our closest friends, we've already poured out our grief, cried the tears, soaked up the support. When circumstance finally cripples us to the rawest point of human pain, we feel as though we can't infringe one more time on even our family's graces.

And so we sit in the dark in the middle of the night, bleak, sad, numb, afraid. Empty.

We sit in isolation in the center of our friends, work or activities, well-dressed, well-spoken. We are the most driven, the most successful, gregarious and technically the happiest of our friends. And we are isolated all the more for our iconic, charismatic nature. Isolated because we are usually the first to offer wisdom and support to others. Our insight and knowledge base is that much more broad - and, even so, is the very catalyst that seals our desolation and inability to reach for help when we need it most.

More than that, people don't believe us because we don't look like we could be empty; we have never given cause to imagine we might court such dangerous depression. Our vitality and energy has been such that a perception of complete and total wretchedness would defy imagination. Unseemly. Unimaginable. Mistaken. No, not her. Not him.

And...

Society, when it comes right down to it, doesn't know what to say. Which is pathetic, laughable and gravely sad, really, because each one of us has not ever been immune to exactly the nature and content of these feelings. Society doesn't want to talk when it truly gets ugly. Some fear perception. Others fear labels. Others worry that the slightest indication of negativity could forever frame selves into boxes that could then be stacked with "those" people. And who are "those" people? Ah, yes. There's no such thing. Those people all breathe, act, feel, need and matter just as much as we do. The very nature of the reference indicates our shame in contributing to our own deplorable condition.

And so we sit in the dark with tears streaming down our cheeks, with obligations and a sense of responsibility too heavy to indulge in destruction, but nonetheless leaving us feeling oh-so-gravely wounded. And oh, so very much alone.

This business of people thinking that difficulty is a weakness, that difficulty is a detractor, effectively perpetuates the calamity. It exacerbates pain within, and guarantees another's. And even more, when we finally come out to the other side and wish to vehemently champion the topic, we only have the bravery to admit to history because therein lies safety and seems far more acceptable in reception than offering ourselves up on a broad slab of stone for sacrifice, critique, whispers or silence.

Even as I write this, I know that there will be those who will think that because of the content I must be sitting in the dark, wallowing in mire. And yet, the reality is that I'm writing this tonight because for some reason it has come to mind and I am compelled to put it to print now. I feel compelled to not only write this, but to push farther and faster, louder and with more entreaty for people to Talk.

Silence hurts.

No more pretenders. No more worry. Isolation. Fear. No more fruitless, debilitating need. No more with this self and society-destroying stamp of silence and tainted thought. The conversation must start now. More of us must stand up and begin. More of us must embrace the real truth -

That it is our dance with challenge that defines, polishes and illuminates the very merits of our unique talents and strengths, proving unaccountably the power of Self worth.

Some say that struggle is private. And I respect that. Some say that they are not ready to talk about issues. And I respect that, too. But what I find is that honesty in matters of vulnerability must be examined. The easiest way to define whether something is of private nature only and should remain within the confines of respect, is to ask if fear surrounds the issue. And if fear surrounds the issue, then that is the surest answer that points to an underlying dance with the lesser intention of shielding self from potential inadequacy or gossip.

When we embrace fear, then we consign others to fear; when we are fearless, we allow others their freedom. Judgment should cede control to find compassion; for compassion will find a wealth of love and transparency that can bind relationships and bring life rich meaning.

And then there are fewer people alone in the dark, aching and in pain.

And then there will be more people out in the open, sharing in collective power, feeling freedom. Campaigning for love. And fearlessly accepting their own.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl