Hallways

As you may have guessed, I love a good metaphor. I have trained myself to view the different parts of my mind, body and soul in a manner that is digestible because a lot of the pain and emotions that I do feel can be so overwhelming, that I just can't swallow it. After years of therapy, visualization was a tool that accumulated because it became vital to the recovery that I wanted to desperately to stick. I needed to find a face, or place to attach that pain to. I have talked about the hole that I hide my emotions in, and house the deeper thoughts that I have that create a perfect storm of anxiety and pain. I have talked about the roller coaster ride that I am repeatedly standing in line for because its the life that I was blessed to be given with my family. I have talked about my soul and how it has felt broken and shattered on the floor, and I am left with a dusty pan and broom to sweep up the mess that I have made. So this brings me to the occupancy that I have within the confines of my mind:

Hallways.

This may seem like an interesting idea because when I think of hallways, I immediately am transported back to the crowded outdoor hallways of my high school. The feeling of suffocation because there are strangers pressed up against my back as we all rush to get to our next period, or running into the girls in the bathroom who skip 5th period every Wednesday, or rushing to the library as the sporadic rain pelts my skin and backpack. It became my mental norm. I'm sure you are wondering, why high school hallways? Well, that would be because I have this kryptonite that is associated with high school. Whenever I feel not good enough, or judged, or I am being taken advantage of, or I am ignored, or I am not being seen as the person that I want to be, I shove myself right back into the Vans of the girl who felt like she was 3 inches tall in her high school world. I spent 4 years at a great school, with a diverse curriculum, and truly did have the opportunity to have a great experience, but I was so broken and disconnected from that opportunity, that I stuck myself in a ongoing party that was surrounded by fear of judgement and unacceptance. This world would become the place the I retreated to because it was all I knew. 

So when I had my emotional breakdown, letting the suicidal thoughts take over my mind, my Momma thrust me into therapy with Marian. Marian was one of those therapists that you see in a movie, and you think they don't exist. She had purple hair, operated out of her house, had a dog sit with you during your sessions, and referred to your body as your "spacesuit that houses your universal spirit". I know, it sounds crazy. But you know what, she was the one that introduced me to the idea of visualizing my pain. Putting a face on the demons that I felt were shooting me from all angles. She was the one that said, "Your mind is like file cabinets or hallways. You file away your pain, and return to it once your class is over. Like a cycle of emotion." So that birthed the image of my mind. That I linger down the hallways of my mind, avoiding the eye contact of the occupants that rule the school. Anger, disappointment, sadness, happiness, love, joy, kindness, confidence, resentment. The parts of my soul that I didn't think could coexist. But in reality, by creating these hallways, it opened the door to creating a functioning mini world where I could live happily within the dysfunction.

Something that consistently comes up when I express myself and how I feel, my Momma always says "Mary Frances, you need to realize. You are not in High School anymore." For a while, each time this phrase was mumbled or yelled, it would leave a little cut on my spirit. Why couldn't I leave high school behind? Why was I stuck on a path where I felt that I was never enough? Why was I living in the shadow of a girl where the pain was so unbearable, that she couldn't imagine living a day longer? So I thought about it. I thought about why I care so much about the posts of my high school classmates, and I care so much about what they think. I thought about why I was so caught up in the thought of going to my reunion and not being able to say something that was considered accomplished. I thought about why I was so caught up in the idea that I would avoid saying hi to classmates when I saw them 10 feet away at Target. 

It was because I still live in those hallways. 

I wake up everyday and walk into the building that holds my inner thoughts, and I participate in a daily dance with my fears. I have coffee with Judgement. I am group members with Disconnection. I race Anger down the track. I eat lunch surrounded by Fear, Sadness and Shame. I still walk the hallways of the place that makes me feel small. 

But I can't shake them because they are the only ones that know me the best. I have developed a relationship with the emotions that keep me from being the girl that I see at the end of the tunnel. They are the reason why people say, You are so much more than high school. But I can't shake the feeling of loss because what will I be if I truly leave those hallways behind? What will happen when I  move on and find a new campus to inhabit? What will happen when I let go of the girl who felt that being in the background was all she was destined to be?

Who knows. But Im going to find out. One day at a time. One foot at a time. One mistake at a time. Because everyday I start to think about what I want. What I want to be. What I want to do. Who I want to be with. And that girl doesn't belong in a building. She belongs in a field singing Abba at the top of her lungs and feeling proud of her struggles. One day I will be her. I just know it.