I written before about the door. That heavy, grey portal between my now and my dark and nebulous past. The door that, for fifteen-odd years, I’ve vigilantly barricaded with varying degrees of success. That door has effectively segmented my life, like a child’s sectioned dinner plate, keeping the peas from mingling with the mashed potatoes. I’ve never really known what was behind the imaginary slab of wood that I’ve leaned into, wedged my foot under, and slept beside with one eye open. All I’ve known is that it must be kept closed, like Pandora’s box, because what was behind it was too…. too much.
The process of counseling has forced me to give up the defenses that keep the door closed. All this “being gentle”, “being kind”, and “giving myself space” has led to a gradually widening crack by the doorknob. Historically, when any anger, fear, vulnerability, or anxiety would seep out, I would snap to attention, slam the door, and shut down. But now it just is what it is. I sob, scream, or rant. I cuddle up between P and Boris the Bear, and let P play with my hair while I talk myself down from the ledge. It’s very unlike me, it’s all kind of scary, but eventually the tides recede and a haze of normality settles back in. Sometimes it’s a chilling breeze that blows through the door, sometimes it’s a violent fire, but it’s never predictable and it’s never very much fun. Sometimes I’m consumed by old needs, sometimes I’m engulfed in just rage, and sometimes I’m just profoundly and agonizingly sad. But here’s the marvel – eventually it passes. Eventually it moves through and moves on. Eventually it’s not so scary.
Is this healing? This acceptance, this letting go? I’ve always been cripplingly frightened of what’s behind that door, that whatever it was would kill me. But it doesn’t. There’s enough light in my life to penetrate the deepest darkness, there’s enough connection to dispel my most profound loneliness, there’s enough food to drive away hunger, there’s enough warmth to overcome the cold. There are enough hugs to balm the aches, enough joy to break through the agony, enough safety to calm the fear. And love, there’s enough love both within and around me, enough love to move through me and nudge out the insecurity. There is nothing behind that door that can take any of this away. Enough, it’s all I’ve ever wanted, and it’s right here. It’s all right here.