I am the Pain

I am fear and shame in the worst way.
I am debilitating, stunting progress
pushing away change
I am disbelief and anguish
I am fear
The unknown is uncomfortable
I am not at peace yet this is what I know
I dislike emotions
push them back inside
I am shame
I am haunted by imperfections
I am unable to obtain
I am fear
I am am shame

I fear that I will not be able to acquire the life I dream for myself. I have sat and watched as my world has spiraled out of my control. I grew up afraid of displeasing, and yet I could not obtain that obsolete approval. Sometimes there but shattered by a word, a look--you'll never be good enough--the message loud and clear. You don't want to turn out like your sister--how the echo of those overheard words pained. What is it about me that is so bad? What is it about me that causes you to lash out? What is it about me? I shudder. I cry. I am ashamed that I cry. Push it back in. Hold it all in. I am strength if you do not see that inside I am weak, scared, and ashamed to be me. Fake it till you believe it. Fake it until you make it. Fake it fake it fake it. I live in this world where I am faking a life. Faking a way to be. Faking strength. Hiding the fears, before I open the door to enter the home. I feel dread and I am worried that I will open the door and there will be anger, or dismissal. I am confused. I feel loved, and cherished and I feel despised and loathed. The confusion is too much for me so it is better not to feel at all.
I am the Gentry at the gate. I guard what goes in and what comes out. I guard the emotions. I am the gate keeper. I keep things in that must not come out. I keep things out that must not come in. I am the barrier between sanity and the world. I am here to protect. I am here to keep safe the precious dreams and joys and hopes of the children. I will hide them inside of my protective walls. I keep them from knowing more pain. I can't protect them. And I am ashamed. My job is to be numb. To keep the world at bay. Un-phased. I cannot do this much longer my body cries out to release the pain, to release the fears to share it. To not have to hold it anymore.
I am memories I do not wish to remember. I crop up in moments that seem out of place.
I need to relinquish the shame in the memories. I want to give them over to experience. There has been healing. There has been hope so why must the memories crop up one by one?
Do not talk about the dark hours. Do not share your pain. Do not tarnish a good name. The message again you are not worthy of the emotions that you feel. You should not feel. Not these emotions. It is wrong wrong wrong. and I am ashamed. I am afraid to speak of things that are confusing. I am afraid to share the pain. Fake it. Share the good memories. or don't share anything at all. Why can't it all exist? Why must it all be broken up and compartmentalized? Why do I have this job? Ah yes to protect. I am the barrier. The Gentry at the gate.