Saturday, April 14, 2012

the one with 'the wall'

i'm supposed to be doing homework. but i've hit a wall. my brain isn't working 
and i just want to give up on writing this seven page paper. 

so while i was not doing my homework like i'm supposed to be doing i googled my old blog. 
the blog i had a tad bit over a year ago. apparently get the itch to blog at the same time every year. 
wonder how many other blogs i have out there in the land of

speaking of walls, i found this post from january 2010. 
while my relationship with my husband is in no means strained like it appeared to be then, 
i thought would bring back this blog entry. if you take out the husband part i believe that 
many of us can relate in one way or another. 

'the wall' circa january 2010

Constructed carefully. Each brick hand picked and set myself. As tall and as wide as I want. As strong and durable as I feel necessary. This wall is my friend. Maybe my best friend. It also doubles as my counselor. I don't really talk to this wall, you see. I just throw my feelings in it's direction and I'm done.

My wall has this awesome quality of stopping whatever I throw at it from getting to the outside world. Great characteristic, I think. Though I've been told it's really not all that.

Apparently it's not so safe to make best friends with a wall. I say to those people-y'all don't know what you're missing! Really, you don't!

You see, this wall has worked great since childhood. Built by me several years ago...still standing after years of abuse. Many ugly words, physical abuse and loss upon loss. It takes it all. I really should have been a brick layer. Okay-maybe not.

After all, this wall of mine, that I built myself, isn't really there. It's just a figment of my imagination. And as I get older the game of pretend is starting to wear off. I've been fooled. By my own self. Odd.

It's taken some time to realize this. Some time that I would have rather spent building my wall much higher. Much stronger. But, I've run out of bricks. I've run out of mortar. And honestly, I don't want to go get more. It's quite expensive.

The cost of building materials have gone up. Pretty expensive now, if you ask me. This wall I talk so fondly of has become an enemy of sorts. The great job it was doing of keeping my feelings in and away from others has now started to hurt me. And those very close to me. Mainly my husband. That wall. That blasted wall.

It's time I take you down. Piece by piece. No more holding back how I feel. No more ignoring how my husband feels. No more. Wall, I love you, you've been great. But now it's time to be honest with myself. With my husband. With my family and friends.

No more relying on the wall to keep me safe.

It's God's turn.

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