Frozen Onion

The warmth of their words wraps around me like a quilt. Yet, I do not get warm. I am frozen. When it did seep through that warmth, it just thawed the worms of bitterness, wrath and vengeance. I throw down that quilt to freeze again, a sacrifice for those who dare to know me. I will bear the weight of unfair judgement, be the sacrificial lamb for their own guilt.

To say this is dramatic would be truth. But must you curl your lip as you say it? You, who pay big bucks for drama on screen. My inner critic loves to say I am dramatic, just as much as outer critics. Is there some unwritten rule that states “you are just being dramatic” gives one a pass to skimlive life?

I don’t know?

I do know these frozen worms are poison to my soul and to be frozen is not an ideal situation. I don’t feel ready to be ok with the hurts, betrayals and losses in my life. To reveal to the heat of the light and accept the suffering done to me or what I have done to others. I have worked on a few layers. Peeling the onion, as they say. I have a difficult time with anger and disgust. I know clinging to these, frozen and in pain, makes it worse when it could be like the sting of a wasp, painful and throbbing til it soon eases away, and I forget I was even stung. I realize on some level that keeping them frozen freezes the good things in my life as well, falling away like frozen gangrene digits and limbs.

Now that, is dramatic.

And morbid.

Yet I do feel all the better for saying it. Confession being good for the soul, or rather confessing the fear of confession. Will it unlock the door to a more profound truth? Or just committing to the drama. I will figure it out one day. Today I will slowly defrost a layer. See what happens. Maybe resolve an issue, find forgiveness, quell a fear, love someone a little better, love me a little better.

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