Nothing steals happiness and fuels pain more than when you’re trapped inside of your head. And so many of us are trapped inside the mirror box of our mind. Every anxious worry, painful past memory and self-deprecating judgement are reflected from every wall of our mind. We believe it all because there is no visible outlet to free us from the insanity.
Well, there is a visible outlet; it’s our heart. But we are trapped and blinded by our constant craving for inward validation that we refuse to see it, and in my case, refuse to trust it.
I am trapped inside my mind, and I’m desperate to get out.
For the better part of six months, it could even be longer, I’ve been scared to allow my heart to feel. Through unconscious habit, I am crammed tight inside of my thought. Everything seems wrong to me. Even my workouts, which were typically my saviour, are not feeling right anymore.
I feel incredibly alone, but that’s expected, I’m inside my head. Nobody shares that space with me. I keep wondering if there is advice out there that will help me snap out, but by seeking advice, I’m just begging for the quick-fix answer. There are no answers available, I am the answer, and it sits in my ability to feel again.
So how do I get out of my head? By allowing my heart to feel. This means leading with kindness, believing in the good inside myself and in others, and that by trusting with love, life is born. But to me, that’s a tall order. You see, my heart has a hole in it. Whenever I allow it to fill up, it quickly empties.
For a brief time, I patched my heart up, and I allowed it to fill up. I felt life, and it was amazing. I was out of my head, and for a time, everything was possible. Over a couple of years, I wasn’t fearful of the future, pained by the past or doubting myself at the moment. I was on top of the world.
Then it all changed.
The police washed their hands of my complaint.
I wouldn’t admit it at the time that the Crown’s dismissal of my child abuse case against my father had crushed me. But looking back on it, it most certainly has.
I had trusted my heart by going to the police to tell them what had happened to me. It took everything I had to go there, talk to a man of authority (whom I was taught at a young age not to trust) and pour my most painful memories in front of a camera. Knowing full well, that even though it wasn’t my intention, my words could destroy my father, my family and my life. But, in the faith of doing the right thing, I needed to tell my story to them. I had to give it away and go through the process.
It’s not like I wanted a guilty plea, courtroom drama or even a guilty verdict. I just wanted to do the right thing and have my day in court. I was denied that. So too were a few others who made statements of sexual misconduct against my father.
Now, life goes on for everyone. Except me. I feel like a fraud.
I don’t trust my heart. I trusted it by unconditionally loving the man who abused me. I trusted it a second time by unconditionally, trying to find justice. A third time? I would be a fool. But then, maybe that’s what getting out of my head and into my heart is all about… being foolishly in love.
Until I can muster up the courage to patch up the hole in my heart to hold feelings again. I will remain confined to the comfortable, dark, and lonely trappings of my mind.
So, while the solution is easy to get out of our mind, the execution is far from easy. To get away from our minds, we have to trust and live in our foolish heart. And that, takes a leap of faith, and to those of us whose heart has been abused in the past, is incredibly difficult, bordering on impossible.