Monday 4 October 2010

The darkness beckons…

I have a door in my mind. Maybe you do, too. Maybe it’s just me.

This door of mine?  It’s a little door. A wooden door.  A dark door. It’s rounded at the top and has a little, round, darkened window in it. I do a pretty good job of keeping it shut tightly. This past weekend though, for some reason, it has opened just a crack. I can hear the darkness on the other side whispering to me. It whispers so softy, but the whispers… they are there. They’re always there. I just usually can’t hear them very well. It was on my drive home from Toronto on Friday where I could really feel the pull of the darkness. There are parts of me that just want to give in and go through that door. Maybe it’s my lizard brain, as Seth Godin puts it. Maybe it’s The Bitch in the Corner, as Elizabeth Potts Weinstein calls her. Whatever that part of me is, it’s been stronger these last couple days. I don’t know if it’s this change of seasons (which does affect me negatively), the feeling of always being on the outside looking in (which is a whole other post), or hormones, or the fear of starting my business, or what…

But… Those whispers are louder, more persistent. The darkness seems so inviting. It’s a place where I just lay in bed, under the covers and I don’t come out.

I don’t want to come out.

But I do want to come out.

But I can’t.

When I’m on the other side of that door, I can hear my children. I can hear them laughing and playing, but it all feels so far away. That happy place seems like a place I’ll never be again. When I’m on the other side of that door, joy is elusive. The more I try to get out of the darkness, the farther the door seems to get. Just like one of those horror movies where you’re running and running - yet the exit, the door to safety just gets farther and farther away.

So, I can’t give in to the whispers. It would be so….  easy…. to go through that door. And the darkness seems oddly comforting. The whispers sound as if they would embrace me. Comfort me. Keep me safe.

But I know that’s not true. Once I cross the threshold, they will embrace me, but it will be to suffocate me. To hold me down and do everything they can to keep me there. Once I’m there, it is so easy to keep me there. They know the fight is in getting me to come through. I know that, too. That’s why I’m writing this down. To help ward off those whispers. To help close that door. To keep the darkness at bay.
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