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My Head: A Home For the Heart

February 24, 2012

Once upon a time, I went to a wrestling school.  A professional wrestling school, the World Wrestling Entertainment/Ring of Honer/Impact Wrestling type of wrestling.  I was trying to learn something, but I couldn’t accomplish it.  I was disappointed in myself, and while my body was ready to do it again, my mimd flat out refused.

The guy who was helping with what I was trying to do told me that I need get out of my own head.  It stuck with me, and I tucked it away in a nice file, ready to be taken out when the time was right.

Yet, it wouldn’t be the last time someone would give me that piece of advice.  Whenever we get to talking about my relationships (or lack thereof), my boy always said that I need to get out my shell.

Then one day, it got me to thinking: the best trait a person can possess is the ability to get me out of my head.  It’s an even greater trait if they can keep me out of there.

When I say “get me out of my head”, I don’t mean “be the first to approach.”  I mean give me feedback, laugh, insight…something.  Otherwise, I could be having a better conversation with the wall.  Which is why the next step is to try and keep me out of my head.  Not an easy task, but if I have to dig into my head for topics, it’s a wrap.

The reason for this is that I’ve been living in my head for as long as I can remember.  My grandfather, God rest his soul, would always find ways to entertain me.  Then, a month before I was to turn 7, he passed away.  After that, My grandmother and I barely talked, as it was more of a dictator sort of environment, where I really didn’t say anything unless it was to get myself out of trouble.  Otherwise, it was do whatever she asked, follow the rules and I would hole myself up reading books and playing video games. 

My other grandmother may have had sage advice, but she got too emotional for my liking.  Anything emotional, I shut myself out and wonder what I could’ve done better.

My mom and I are close, but she can be unpredictable, as evidences by the many addresses I’ve encountered whenever I went to stay with her during the summer.  My pops… he was in the picture, but barely.  We hung out, he took me to the arcade.  He took me in once I turned 17, and tried to instill values and such, but it was too late.  We never really connected.

The lack of siblings present, and the disconnect between me and most of my peers didn’t do me any good either.  So I went into my mind as an escape.  Then it became a habit.  Then it became a necessity.

Which leads to more disconnect, as I have a difficult time making friends.  It’s there where I’m everything I’m not, everything I want to be and a place where anything goes.  I have set up a castle there that is heavily guarded.  It is my home.

Under no circumstance do you let me go back there (figuratively speaking, of course).  Whether it’s to grab a magazine, because I forgot my headphones or even for some sugar.  Do not let me go back there, because once I do, I’m not coming back out.

One Comment
  1. As a girl with a wall around her heart, I can tell you, the things we sometimes do to protect us end up hindering and hurting us in the end.

    I built up this wall of ice around my heart to stop it from feeling and stop it from doing what it does best, even though I realized doing that was literally putting me on ice until I could deal better. And yet some people, with dogged determination and faith in me, still found their way around and in there and have helped me melt from the inside.

    I say all this to say that if you find people who pull you out of there, who help you see the world outside of the one you created just as beautiful, just as fun, just as safe as the one you’ve made, keep them. Let them be there for you. It’s hard, because people like us are used to being there for others in that same way, but in order to move forward, we’ve got to get out of our own way.

    Just some two cent advice from a girl who’s been (or is still) there. 🙂

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