One Clumsy Seeker

There was a day back in a very early spring perhaps in 2014 where I was struggling to keep my sanity as I was dealing with memories and realizations. I didnt want to be in that emotional state, but the memories and realizations made sense of why I was the way I was and so in that sense I was living more deeply and authentically to myself. I had been more present with the thready bits of myself than ever before. When I accepted the truths, I was less dissociative than when I tried to deny them. However, being present with truths caused a considerable amount of pain that is so hard to describe. It was tangible and I could feel it in my brain. I felt so raw, and it was overpowering for someone to even stand too close to me. The discomfort was terrifying and I was afraid that I would end up yet again in a mental institution but this time never able to return to society. I got lost in the thinking that my own thoughts couldn't let me ESCAPE from my entrapped hell. I was locked in to the thinking that I could do nothing because it took my brain to do it and my brain was broken. My boss and workmates knew that I was going through this and were more than cooperative. They were compassionate and let me come to work even as I would recluse to my work in the strange FORM I was. Often, I'd be looking out the window with tears streaming down my face while I worked. I would go for walks at lunch time and end with a stretch and a short meditation in an area between some buildings where there were benches and trees. On this particular February day, I was lying back on the benches looking up in to the bare trees trying not to FOCUS on this ominous darkness in my head but recognizing the experiences I had as I knew I couldnt repress nor deny them anymore. There was an echo memory of some talk I'd heard once. Someone was saying that regardless of how bare trees looked in the winter, there was activity in the roots and the branches that we couldn't see where sap was stirring to produce buds and leaves – life.