My hell

I want to get past, give up
The voices swirling in my head
and the compulsion to give into them

I do not feel free, I do not feel empowered
I do not feel myself
I feel torn between perspectives
Between fragments of "reality"
I feel driven to do, unable to be

I need a way out, a way through,
Or maybe a way in
Out of this false self--fragmented, anxious, incomplete and insecure
Into my new self, my true self-- whole, loved, fully present, unhurried and at peace. 

These voices, mine or others, always ask me "How do I get there?"
They stem from my "destiny complex", my dreaming.
When did my dreaming become my prison?

Perhaps I am finally doing now what I have avoided for so long
Confronting, rather than running
I know that if I go, the voices come with me
My inner drive stemming from perceived unworth, that self-love/self-hate dichotomy
Will be in me to poison the different circumstances, the new job, the different place
The anxious swirling of my heart will not be driven away from the outside
It must be changed from within.



But this metanoia, this "mind change" isn't merely flipping a switch, at least it doesn't feel that way
It's a death.
Inside, I feel like there's a cancer, a sick and dying part of me
Gripping me, strangling me, choking out my hope for life
My efforts to cover over, move on or reframe can work only momentarily, and there comes the thought that I might need to let it die
But what does that mean? Will it kill me?
I have so little hope for myself, so much of it was stored up in dreams that now seem lost
How can I hope to be fully myself, fully alive?

God, I will let you kill it,
That voice of accusation, that serpent on my shoulder, in my head
Some part of me still believes that you are what I need, that I can trust you to be my savior
But that part of me feels so small at the moment
Come quickly, purge my inner man with your flame of love
Lest I be forever cut off, living in this Hell of my own mind
Hosanna, God, save me.
Benjamin FaderComment