deciphering the days

A friend of mine wrote this. It really struck home with me: "I am afraid of being vulnerable. That's why I am quiet all the time: it is not that I don't have anything to say, I could fill the void with words, I am afraid of what being honest might cause. I am afraid that if I told you what I think you would think I'm stupid. I'm afraid that if I told you what I feel you would reject me for feeling the wrong things . I'm afraid that if you knew the things I have done you wouldn't want to spend time with me. That's why I am always so measured, so quiet, only breaking the silence when I'm pretty sure I have something really good to say. That is why when I do speak it's so often sarcastic. Sarcasm is safe, it directs negative attention elsewhere and I can score points for being witty. By being sarcastic I don't reveal my true thoughts or feelings and so nothing precious to me can be used against me... I don't risk giving you anything tha...

So as many know, I just graduated with a chemistry degree and 3.7 something GPA. Many people in my life are not surprised. I, however, truly believed that I wouldn't get here. I am 'cleaning up' my computer and deleting the thousands of pictures and old, unread documents. I stumbled across some pre-college and early college writings... "I want to do well in school. I want to make people proud and live up to the expectations. Part of me feels like I am somehow lying to them because there are so many people who think I am so smart – book smart - and I really want to be. I want to be that person. But so often I am reminded that that is not me, or not by default. And I am concerned with what happens. I really want to do well. What If I don’t? So many people have put so much into me doing this and so much rides on it. If I don’t get this degree then what was the point of any of it? What will I do afterwards? ...I would be so ashamed to drop out of school and even to do...

Many of the stories I listen to or watch have a scene when the protagonist and side characters debate one's ability to choose . It goes something like this: "I had no choice!" "You always have a choice - you could have chosen differently!" "NO! You left me no other options - my hands were tied!" Etc., etc., you get the picture. So anyway. This has been on my mind a lot. Do we always have a choice? What about life and death choices that involve other people? Through my ponderings, I have come to a conclusion that we always have a choice but the darker conundrum is this: What freedom is found in a choice when we will be held captive by the consequences of that choice? Now I have no idea. I have just been contemplating this question for quite a while and that's all I have, but it has been on my heart and mind for a while so I put it in writing. 

I want to have a space where I fit comfortably, both body and mind. I do not feel that I have ever experienced any significant level of comfort from my environment. Of course, like most people, I do own a couple of items that always make me feel better in a 'security blanket' manner. However, it is always a struggle to find them in the midst of the crowded atmosphere that has always been my house. Unnecessary stressors significantly outnumber the happy items. Maybe this is due to the lack of cleanliness and/or the excess items that surround me, and the people I have lived with, but regardless as to why, I never thought my house could be a source of pleasure, comfort, and energy. But maybe it can. I want to have a space where I fit comfortably, both in body and mind. For the first time, I have my own place, for Husband and me (yay us!!). Perhaps we can make our house a happy place. I want our belongings to be important and to fit comfortably within our home. No more forcing....