Paint

Have you ever been honest with someone about what you're going through and they look at you so surprised and say "We couldn't tell." Or "I couldn't tell."? You feel so relieved that your brave face is working or that your spots aren't showing,  but at the same time you feel a bit inauthentic. Not that you want to be an open book,  shining a light on all your flaws,  pains and secrets,  but you wonder why am I covering everything up. The song "Put on a Happy Face," comes to mind. A great song in theory,  but where's the limit to our fake smiles? 

We seem to cover,  cover,  cover until our beautiful,  original paint is so many layers below the surface we can't see what we started as.  One day,  there's too many layers and the only way to rid them is to strip them one by one until that authentic original coat of paint is there for all to see.  Question is,  do you start the layers again or do you add Killz or some kind of protective coat to help toughen you up to the wear and tear of life? 

Protection is probably smart and who hasn't been told at one time or another,  "you've got to toughen up," or "don't be so soft." The thing is, I don't want to turn hard or develop armor.  I don't want to squash the last pieces of innocence I have left.  I don't want to be someone who adapts to the harsh qualities of the world and "bucks up." I have seen the value of "soft" or "innocent" and they aren't weaknesses or a downfalls. The soft care,  the innocent believe in hope.  These are things to hold onto at all costs and believe me,  they come with a cost. You can care too much,  you can have so much hope that the reality is lost and you can get hurt.  Still, it's worth the hurt. The beauty of softness,  hope and caring is worth so much more than becoming hard which often leads to being jaded and filled with bitterness. Being soft gives others a safe place to land.  

So,  where is this all coming from? What is my point?  Today I had my most frightening panic attack ever.  I had to remove myself from an interview panel.  I felt that I had let my peers down,  that I'm incapable,  that something is wrong with me,  that I'm such a weirdo.  All these horrible things I attached to myself for something I tried so hard to control,  but got the better of me.  Why do we paint over our original paint,  the paint given to us when we're 0,1 & 2 years old by doting family and friends? "Look at those blue eyes," "you're such a sweet girl," "She's such a smart girl." Etc... Why do we paint over that with "you're screwing up your life," "you're ugly," "you're such a weirdo," etc? Though the external voices may have put some of those harsh ideas in our heads,  it is our internal voice repeating that dialogue over and over again.  

Today after my panic attack,  a sympathetic co-worker so kindly and concisely said (when I was apologizing and professing my embarrassment) "Why don't you try being as nice to yourself as you are to all of us." And ain't that a kick in the head?!?!  What a beautiful thing to say and what a life altering idea. So often the caring and consideration we give to others is not something we bestow upon ourselves. I would never call anyone else a "weirdo" or "incapable" for stepping out of a meeting so why do I internally shame myself?  

I have a long way to go to figure out what is the true root of my anxiety and how to get it under control so I can get back to being able to function on a daily basis. I know that the mind and body tell us in unconventional ways to slow down,  limit stress,  take better care of ourselves. My brain and body have been screaming lately,  but I have been tuning it all out.  Today,  it was payback time,  my mind was like "listen to me or else!!!" The extreme was uncomfortable and embarrassing and so it's time to listen.  It's time to strip the layers of paint that are not serving me.  All these negative ideas I've painted on my walls and reside in me,  but don't serve me one bit need to go.  How I repaint is completely up to me.