Resistance is eating my lunch.
He has me by the throat.
I twist struggling for release.
Anything to be released from his grip.
I refuse to look him in the eyes.
The truth is I feel amazing.
I’m living my dreams.
I’ve been in control.
I’ve crossed items off my bucket list.
And maybe I should feel badly. Maybe I should feel guilty. But I don’t. I feel the freedom of living all no-regrets style. Pure bliss.
Then Resistance pushed me like a bully into a corner. Stole my lunch. And here I am caught by the throat.
If I dare to look him in the eye –
If I dare to acknowledge he is killing me –
With a subtle squeeze, immeasurable pressure I need air. I need air.
I shift. Straining my throat. Pulling my head. Gasping. My eyes wide.
I glimpse Resistance’s eyes.
I see shadow figures of my inadequacies.
Shadow scenarios where I share what I’m really like and I’m rejected.
Resistance didn’t realize I care but not enough to sacrifice how far I’ve come.
Resistance forgot I don’t like being told what to do.
Resistance forgot when I get shoved down, I might hunker down all scared, but eventually I get pissed off and come out swinging.
Reject me? Fine.
Unsubscribe? Please do.
Say this is “oh so interesting” in a deprecating tone? Fuck you.
Resistance you had me.
I thought I couldn’t look you in the eyes.
But I did and here’s what I know to be true:
I must write.
I must speak.
I must share my truth.
I must work through the pain.
And in those moments, I defeat you, Resistance, word by word.