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As the ground shook beneath me, fear and terror gripped my heart. Frantically I run from room to room trying to keep the life I had created for myself from crashing down around me. Pictures are torn from the walls, collections from over the years destroyed in a matter of seconds. Finally the destruction becomes too great and is coming too quickly, I can't save my home any longer, so I hide until it is over in an attempt to save at least myself.
Finally it seems like the worst is over. It feels so dark and empty from my little hiding space that I can't seem to find even a sliver of hope to cling to. I uncurl myself from the fetal position to try and see what is left. I expect to see dust everywhere, chaos in the streets, storm clouds, debris left by an earthquake... all normal things you would expect to see after your house has just crashed down around you. What I saw instead ripped any foundation that was left intact from beneath me and my life, as I had come to understand it, was over.
There is no dust, no chaos, no destruction. I feel dizzy as the confusion sets in. How is this possible? My whole house is gone. But what I was left standing in was a prison cell, tightly closed to the outside world. Thousands of thoughts and emotions flood my mind. How could I have been so blind to the fact that I was living so completely disconnected from the others around me. How long must I have been here to have no recollection of ever willingly stepping foot into this abyss. Most importantly, why didn't anyone ever tell me! There is definitely a mess to clean up, but things have never looked so clear. My mind is so clear it is almost foreign. A smile slightly tugs at the corner of my mouth.
Spotting the door, I climb over the debris and rubble that once defined me. I just want to see outside, fill my lungs with pure, fresh air. I want to know if colors are brighter on the outside, if aromas smell richer, if things that I loved so dearly before, would feel differently now. I try and open the door but it is locked. The very foundation that made me who I am is destroyed in less than an hour, and I am STILL locked in this prison?? Then it dawns on me… a fancy key that I have worn around my neck since I was a little girl. I thought it was just some trinket that someone gave to me. Quickly I yank the chain from around my neck and try the key… It works!!! I try not to dwell on the fact that I have been keeping myself prisoner, I am more interested in discovering this new found clarity.
I have always felt like a prisoner inside of myself. I wanted to break free, but I never knew how. I was brutally honest with friends, with counselors, my parents, but no one was able to help me put the pieces together correctly. I could feel deep within my soul that there was just something missing. But eventually I stopped looking. I was convinced that this was who I was. I was a little crazy, a lot emotional, and things had to be a certain way. Control became my best friend. Being in control was the only way I could be absolutely positive that I wouldn't get hurt again.
Many people could probably tell you all about their fresh start. A new place, a new job, new friends, a new life. But the most important bit of information I have discovered over the years, is you follow yourself throughout life regardless of the amount of "fresh starts" you get. How many people can honestly say they have had an opportunity to start over? A real fresh start. No excess baggage trailing behind, no stubborn habits, no shaky foundations. I can. Although I haven't completely stepped foot outside of my self-made prison due to the fact that it has been my home for years upon years, I now have the awareness. And that is the first step. I have been granted an opportunity to have a start so fresh, that I have been stripped down to my soul. Most of my beliefs, my thoughts, my traditions, my habits and my behaviors (all of the things that make me uniquely me) I created as a young child in an attempt to save myself from my mother's utterly destructive behaviors and outbursts and my father's unusually high expectations amongst other things. It was my coping mechanism. These are just a few of the things I have learned about myself in the past two weeks since learning I am codependent.
