Talking To Myself


Talking To Myself

I was with an alcoholic for years. I very much loved him, but his lifestyle and mine  conflicted. I distinctly remember talking to him as he passed out every night. I knew when he feel asleep as he had sleep apnea. His snoring could frighten the local wildlife. Most of the time he wasn’t listening even while he was awake. Frequently, he would be so drunk he didn’t remember how he got to bed.

I talked to him anyways. I would tell him about my day, my dreams, my worries, and my hopes. I would go on and on about what I loved, what he did that made me feel so angry inside, and how I planned on pursuing a life well lived. He was like talking to a childhood teddy bear.

Even though our bears cannot hear us it appeared as if they were good listeners. They were a safe place. They could not disclose our secrets. They could not get irritated, frustrated, or angry with our rantings. They could not judge us. As a matter of fact their sole job was letting us be fanciful.

I found while my ex was asleep I was free. I could dream. I could process out loud. I could find healing. Due to his alcohol induced coma every evening, he never woke up to correct me. He could not project guilt, shame, or feelings of inadequacies. He was unable to feed me excuses that would squash my heart. He just laid there in the dark, loud silence as I carried on and on.

It was easy for me to hide my vulnerability. I did not know what a safe outlet looked like. My heart understood there had to be much more to life than this. My head could not fathom beyond disfunction what that looked like, so I had succumbed to finding a way the best I knew how.

At least here I did not have to get into an argument. I did not have to stick in there through the hard fought words to express my thoughts. I did not have to take the time to adequately articulate the pictures in my head. I did not have to work through my fears and insecurities to convey the longings and desires that I suppressed every day.
I did not have to navigate passed his fears and insecurities to find the hidden meaning behind what he was attempting to say.

More than a decade has passed since then. My once lover, who became an enemy, and then a friend has since passed on. He probably never knew he knew me the most if he had only heard the words I had spoken. When things remind me of him, I find myself occasionally talking to the void as if somehow now that he is gone, he is finally listening.

Once I accepted I was valuable I placed worth on my words. It was not the person I was in relationship that was the problem, it was why I would put myself in such a relationship to begin with. Regardless of who I speak to, my family, my friends, or others where there is any possibility of confrontation, I am able to walk in gut wrenching confidence. Without true intimacy we hide. When we lack connection we live isolated even in a crowd. We struggle to believe anyone would find warmth from the fire inside of us, so those glowing embers turn to ash and we feel cold and alone. We may spontaneously seek validation from strangers, but it is those that we are closest to that we struggle to pour our hearts. It is when we give opportunity to true two way discussion that we see our full potential.

I no longer talk without being heard. I am known. When I speak I access my courage to be spoken to. I place myself in situations where my words are valuable. I do not willingly cast my pearls before swine. I view what I have to say as important. Those I share with protect my heart. I allow myself to be challenged when my core beliefs are out of order. I make agreements with those who’s dreams are like minded so I can make partnerships and have room to grow. My words are nourished and my paradigms are shifted. I can continually live in the fullness of joy instead of waiting for the next moment of happiness to come along.


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