The word comfortable is a word that will not always speak the truth, it will not say as much about the surrounding reality, but rather your state of being.
How do I explain being comfortable in a dysfunctional home, to be surrounded by stress and pain and be at ease and pain free?
As I dug around in my past, in my feelings and in my head, I discovered that the only way was to deny myself.
I looked up the word denial, but this time I seen it from my point of view, from the self.
Denial… A refusal to comply with or satisfy a request.
I never denied the other person or request, but I denied myself.
I was comfortable denying myself, not looking at myself and instead used myself to make others happy. I knew that girl.
I was comfortable in my role and in knowing what she had to do, I looked at the other and what they needed and complied.
I never looked at me as me, or me alone. I was a very comfortable not looking at me. I could only see me as what I was for other people, there was no me alone.
In a dysfunctional, incestual home, in a place where you are hurt, it is best to not look at yourself, it is best to become absent of self.
Imagine I was comfortable without a self in the midst of being surrounded by pain, stress, and anxiety. I had to deny my feelings in order to stay there, and I did.
Being self less is denying any request of the self. I was shut down to hearing or feeling my self.
I had no connection to me, the lines were severed, I was pain free, for I was so disconnected.
Comfortably unattached.
When I became attached to the truths of my life, then discomfort met me, and my comfortable detachment disappeared.
My security blanket was to keep me separated from my life and the truth that lay beneath.
Denial kept me comfortable.
Isn’t it amazing that denial is comfortable? Denial of self allows you to stand among uncomfortable people and places… you simply don’t bring your feelings or knowing there, you leave your self to be there.
As I sat there in wistfulness of missing the old me, the part I missed was their reception of me, how they received me, not how I wasn’t there.
What I know now is that they don’t like it when I bring me, when I have requests and when I don’t comply, they only want the me that doesn’t have a me there.
They want me to be without a self.
A self less me, to leave my self behind, to come without her…
I don’t leave home without her…now.
The differences in the way I live now compared to the way I lived before is with me or without me.
Before I wasn’t there, did not exist, was living a few feet behind my life, numb shut down unaware.
The new me is alive and aware and right here, feeling and dealing in this now moment, no longer denying her inner requests.
The striking differences between living a life with a self inside, to hear her voice, to make her choice, compared to living a life without her, is an ocean of difference, it is like living dead or living alive.
I M Perfect lady 