I should think that I would be getting used to these constant realizations about myself. But each one presents itself with another OMG moment. I realized that when I am desperately unhappy I absolutely blow apart. Explosive decompression, meltdown, shatter to bits, fracture, fall apart, breakdown. I go to pieces in such a dramatic fashion that even I don't recognize myself. I manage to keep up a decent facade, a masquerade, of who people think I am, but underneath the skin I might as well be an alien pod person. Truely. Yes, I am still inside, trapped by the alien mind, a faint voice trying frantically to be heard over the chaos. But that is all, just a whisper of my Real Self, nearly consumed by an alien energy.
The explosion is always hidden as well as manageable, done in the privacy of my own home, away from eyes and ears that would be stunned by the shockwaves. The shattered pieces are gathered in the bag that is my skin, held together by sheer force of will as I move robotically through my daily existance. Several months (or more) will pass, as I move about in the tenuous state, carefully holding my bits together. I can look back on these months and see the abberent behaviors, the confusion, the attempts to salvage that small speck of the Real Me from the netherworldly chaos. Even I am startled by the random routes my mind and personality may take, the aimless wanderings, false starts, wrong turns. The way my psyche casts about, seeking to sort real from surreal, dark from light, healthy matter from the damaged and scarred, lies from truths. It is a monumental task, the reconfiguring and repairing of shattered Self. It is a painful, difficult journey full of mis-steps and failure. A journey that often seems endless and impossible.
During the Broken Times I do all I can to maintain the health of the shell that is my body, the physical vessel that carries my Real Self. I do what I can to keep strong and functional physically, while the mind strives to find the cure, healing, the path back through the fog. I have fought this particular ill on several occassions through my life, and come out the victor in every battle. The explosion and rebuilding making me stronger and healthier each time as I learn more of myself, more of my truths, and discard the flotsam and self misconceptions that block healing and spiritual growth.
Many would see these explosions as damaging, negative, abnormal, yes even psychotic and frightening. But in my reality, they are empowering. They build my character, my resolve, my strength. When I breakdown, I rebuild stronger, healthier and closer to spiritual perfection (though still far from it). Muscles that are pushed to failure build up stronger and healthier with every painful session, and so do I. Pushed to failure, I grow stronger, healthier, powerful, empowered. I have come through the latest explosion with new revelations of self, new resolve, better understanding of needs and desires, and stronger drive to pursue my life to its fullest. Without the breakdowns, I would be the same timid child of 40 years ago. Without the breakdowns there would be no real growth. But with the passing of each episode my growth is as lush and verdant as Spring in my garden. My Spirit is strong, my Will is powerful, my Life is full of potential.