What Would Be the Point?

Vulnerability, considered such a weak and yet arcane word. For years I fought against it, yet in the moments of my deepest despair, it was my salvation. Even now I wage war against it, especially when others throw their perceived arrows against me. From early childhood I had to build a defensive wall to protect my insides. You know, those things I held dear like my dreams and my emotions. Mentally abused from an early age, I sought shelter in my imagination. Then later on in my sharp wit and bravado.

Not gifted as an athlete, I started as a skinny, four-eyed rut. That communicated much better with the adults in my life than with any of my peers. Through my inactivity and isolation I became overweight. Simply meandering through school dreading the next bully around the corner. After high school I had no focused ambition. Like many of my generation I sought solace in distraction and momentary pleasure. Kidding myself I was tough when on the inside I was just a puddle of shit.
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Over the decades it only got worse. Gasping at one straw or the other, hoping the next one would be the key. But I only ended up falling apart first mentally and then physically. It’s only been over the last several years that I have felt like my shit has been coming together. My secret, if you want to call it that, is searching. Taking time to reflect and not being afraid to be vulnerable. To face my demons and to ask myself why? I give my fear a voice, I allowed that vulnerability to speak. But instead of bottling it up and hiding it. I learned and I’m learning to let it go. I could go on and on, but what would be the point? Each of us has our weaknesses and our strengths. It is the searching for our truth that brings peace. It is our self-awareness that creates understanding.