Until you know my hidden shame... you really don't know me.

I stumbled upon an very interesting post the other day written by Jamie Varon. The title was provocative enough to draw me in, "Hey Internet: Stop Trying to Inspire Me".

It began with words against pseudo positivism and people promoting a purchasable happiness online. It was harsh and direct, I liked it.The piece quickly developed into a correlation of feeling shame for not being happy all the time. The whole shame aspect resonated like a cannon shot. A big cannon. She was right. You can't be happy all the time. There have been times where I was so far from happy, content would have been a big improvement. I get it.

Months ago, I had a situation which I have alluded to and maybe even mentioned in numerous posts here before. I had someone very, very close to me, whom I loved without boundary, deeply wound me emotionally. I would say for me, about as deep as I have been wounded in my life. The deliberate, calculated betrayal just cut a piece of me to shreds. I think irreparably to shreds.

It was never discussed with the person who caused the injury. In the name of keeping the peace and doing my part to suck it up and take one for the team, I left it alone. I could not confront the situation because it might cause "problems".

It would not go away. There was a resentment and anger inside of me which would just fade, only to reemerge out of nowhere. It had not been dealt with, and my subconscious was well aware. I put it out of my mind every time it came back, confident it would go away.

Then I woke up at around four in the morning and stumbled to my computer where I read Jamie's article. I had some moment of clarity. Shame. I am carrying around shame for something someone else did to me. This is stupid. What is a harsher word than stupid? Idiotically stupid?

Make no mistake, I have moved on with my life. Where I am now is completely better than where I was. If I could think of a stronger word I would insert it. Every aspect of my life experience had improved, yet I was carrying around this load for someone who had all but abandoned me. It made absolutely no sense. I drew an analogy of getting the absolute shit beat out of me, being dumped in a ditch on the side of the road and feeling so sorry for the attacker that I should not tell anyone else. This is stupid. This makes me angry seeing how stupid this looks.

I made a phone call and laid things out. The basic outline was something like this- I have feelings, you crushed my feelings and destroyed our relationship with your actions. There were more details about how I needed to move on and that was pretty much that. I refuse to carry the shame and guilt for something which was perpetrated against me. I decided the day before yesterday I would not do it for another second. And I have not. That is the end of it.

I write quite a bit about inspiration and things which inspire me. It has been helpful in my own personal journey. I like it. I do not have a fake superficial inspiration like Jamie railed against in her post. Why not? Because I know where I have been. I have been to some pretty dark places and there have been even more shimmers of light which gave me just enough hope and inspiration to pull through to the other side. I have also written quite a bit on the inspirational aspects of horror, and if this doesn't fit the "genre" I am not sure what will.

This is a quote from the end of her article, "I say we need less fake inspiration and more realness." I could not agree more, but this experience has been real enough for me. I am grateful for the people who have inspired me and believed in me. That is the good stuff of life.

Here is a link to the post on Medium I reference in this article. I encourage you to read it.