If there’s anything I’ve learned this week, it’s that you can’t drive out darkness. Even people who walk in the light have spaces where the day falters and the night suddenly begins. We go into the vallies of our own vulnerabilities, which, to me, is taken directly from the 23rd Psalm. If you replace “Yea, though I walk through valley of the shadow of death” with “valley of the shadow of my own iniquities and terrors,” the landscape looks different, doesn’t it? The difference is that most people won’t even go there… and in order to make darkness of service, it’s the first step.
I can use my darkness for anything, because I have spent so much time getting to know it. Not via cultivation. By not stuffing it down. By not pretending that everything is fine until I had no choice.
I know all my dark places. So do you, if you’re even a casual reader. I don’t mind spilling everything here, absolutely everything, because I don’t care who knows what. If everybody knows everything, there’s no way to intimidate or blackmail me. I am what I am, no apologies, no regrets.
Within limits, of course. I do not choose to give away my humanity. But there are people all over the world that harness darkness and make it work for them. Because we’re not allowed to know the names of those sorts of people, at least most of the time, I mean characters that literally have to turn ON their darkness for the greater good. It’s a Dexter-like mentality, but only from the standpoint that even though Dexter is a cold and calculating killer, you can see that his heart is pure. He only wants to rid the world of people it doesn’t need, anyway.
What I need is a way to harness my darkness, as well. I think I’m doing a fine job on this web site, but I also think I would be quite good at interrogation. If you’ve ever been in a room with me, you can probably count on getting up from our conversation and saying, “wow… I shouldn’t have probably told you all that…” I am kind and caring right until you walk into my trap. What’s the best way to keep myself emotionally set apart? Sit in a conversation and only ask you questions about you. People are rarely other-aware enough to realize that you’re doing it- after all, they’re the most interesting thing to them, so why shouldn’t they be the most interesting thing to you?
And at the end of a meal, I will have enough information to piece together your entire life story….
and you just know I’m cute.
That’s not true at all. I am not cute. I have a layer of cute that you will only see until you know me well enough that I feel I can take it off. Getting to know me is a rabbit hole, because I realized that having no preservation for a lot of years made me spill my emotions to everyone. Nothing was interior.
You would think that I haven’t learned anything, that everything is still interior by the way I write, and you would be so wrong about that you’d come back around to RIGHT and still be lost.
For the record, I am not trying to scare anyone- you just learned this about me yesterday. I learned my darkness from years and years of keeping secrets that were way too big for a teenager, and they ate me up until I realized that they were not of me and had been erroneously implanted to begin with. I had to learn that I was not failing at life- I was just woefully underequipped because my development went 13, 14, 25.
Chunks are missing. Some of those emotions will come through if I pick at them, but the effect of having to hold a secret like being confused about whether there was a woman in love with me when I was still a child (I don’t care if she says it’s not true. She’s always said that and emotionally jerked me around when I’ve tried to ask about our past, anyway.) is that some emotions died and didn’t come back. I talked yesterday about my dead spots. There is one in particular that is so dark that I doubt even the NSA could reach it, because that’s how far I have to dig, too.
In that space, there are no limits, and I don’t want them there. That tiny piece of nothing is a ghost pepper… so powerful that a drop is too much and it flavors everything. If I don’t work from my “nothing” space, then my mind will not accept that I am courageous. It is only when I disconnect and then look *back* can I feel courageous.
For some people, this dark space creates certain…. problems. For me, it creates a layer of buffer between me and everyone else, especially when I’m angry. If I don’t turn off and go numb, then I cannot coolly calculate my next move. If I do not coolly calculate my next move, then I will probably go nuclear and have to pick up tiny pieces of emotional shrapnel out of other people’s skin, embedded like an exploded .22 bullet. You don’t die from a .22 bullet unless the shooter is exceptional. What tends to happen is that the bullet comes out of the gun, hits the target, and then the pieces are so lost that you can’t get them back out. I feel bad every time I do it, but I’m starting to feel *less* bad the more I realize that I am entitled to the same emotional space everyone else gets.
Let me explain what that means to me now. It used to mean that no matter what you said to me, I would stuff it and move on… and then, just like out of a fairy tale, a dragon came down and breathed its fire on me, not to destruct, but to construct- everything within me needed to burn, and my smoke jumper got clean margins.
My abuser was a fire sign, so there was no way I could cool down. I had to bring in a bigger and cleaner fire to burn for new growth forest.
I am a Virgo. The only thing to do now is to rest and relax in the ash-enriched earth.