Eccentricity Has Its Cost


The gift of being eccentric comes with a lonesome cost it often stands out in an arena by itself. I find myself pivoting among people who don't get it. I can't explain the damage... For a matter of my whole life, I have tried to fit in where I do not belong and I have gone against my grain to be a part of something where I feel I do not have a place.

I wonder when I really became the loner? Was it after mom died? A little girl saddened with grief where I just withdrew...or has been since my last relationship where there has been apprehensible, irreversible heartache and abuse. I have gone deep into a place where I have formed this sense of make believe creating and teaching myself to observe instead of participating. Lonely is the child that has been orphaned and lonely is the adult that has no sense of belonging.

It is excruciatingly difficult to be forced to fit in...

I have delved into my story lines where I have found it is easy to write scenarios where there is veracious dialog between characters. Their emotion is heartfelt in their words towards each other.  Whereas to in real life it has become easy to share a feeling hiding behind a texted sentiment... wanting to try having those real conversations in real life moments and it doesn't happen ... do you know the agony it is being in a crowd of people trying to fit in where you feel like you just don't belong. (Where fleeing seems to be the only option but you stay because you have to.)  It feels like dream situation where the walls are caving in and the people's voices become muddled.

The irony is I work with the public. The majority of my life is dealing with the public. The energy executed in having an audience. It has become easy to become the recluse and hide... it's safer to hide. I am left to my own vices and thoughts... too many thoughts. I can not be hurt by others words... or physical force. I know the sound of my own thoughts... I hear the haunted voice. I can face that sound in the quiet that resonates in this gray matter.

It has become easier to hide after years of abuse... being accused of things that never were.  Being blamed for situations that I never created... having things held over my head in order so he could manipulate the situation making it become my fault.  Yes, it has become easy to hide... not wanting to listen to anyone that can find fault with me or what I do.

Honing in on skills is what I have done while hiding. knowing, I am missing out on something where I don't know how to participate in any longer. It has become too painful... my eccentricity has come with a strange consequence.

I have shut down and become a shut-in... all for the sake of talent. Redirecting a focus in make believe... searching for its place down deep in the rabbits hole.

Abuse has horrible repercussions... abandonment issues leave lingering effects. Trust has been impaired on both accounts. The dance of intimacy...has become an odd bed-fellow. Wanting closeness but making sure there is a wall so no one comes close.

My words... my writing... my feelings... my heart. They are hiding in plain sight. My eccentricity has come with a high price... and alone has become the consequence.

God bless the child and God bless the woman...

Meet Me In St. Louis,
Kitryn Marie









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