There is a small child inside me who holds pain and hides the secrets. She evolved over the years out of necessity initially a piece of me that I chipped away and contained. I banished her to a room of her own many years ago far from the main rooms of thought and feeling. So far removed by a labyrinth of halls and crawl spaces, intentionally, that there are times I can almost convince myself that she’s gone. That she’s somehow just dissolved in the darkness and taken the baggage with her. But she’s never really gone, just sleeping, and eventually, I will hear her soft cries echoing through the passageways again. Sometimes the wailing becomes so loud that it drowns out everything and I have no choice but to hear her. I must endure the recitation of all she holds as an acknowledgment of her existence, she must be calmed, she will be heard. I reach for the bottle, compelled to once again anesthetize myself and prepare my veins for the needle of transfusion. I allow the pain, shame, rage, and sadness to flow through me. Releasing the pressure and allowing her to rest. The weight of her world, of my world, left floating in my self created sea of Cabernet mingling with poor choices and self-loathing. All flowing toward the edge. Pushed along with each sip like a gentle current until it reaches the mascara stained cliffs and falls into the night, silently without a witness. Time stops recording as the purge reaches its peak. I awake in a fog with no sense of time or place. I am never without a battle scar or bruise, punishment for her captivity. I quickly scan the area around me and check my phone to see what I did or said during those hours of darkness. Who did I hurt or reach out to? Who will I have to apologize to, AGAIN? My self created circular dance on repeat. What irreparable damage did I cause, THIS time? I spend the next few hours packaging the pain, shame, and embarrassment and carry it through the elaborate maze of halls and passageways and lay it beside the sleeping child. She is the keeper of secrets and pain. She was born out of necessity and banished to that room by me. I left her to suffer alone in the dark. Trapped with my secrets and pain shackled to the past. Only I can set her free. I’m trying and I hope she forgives me.
Lola Trying 