It's so nice to be able to speak freely that it feels like a cheat code in a video game. I grew up like a feral cat, living a lonely existence inside my head. My brother also grew up in the same house, and while we turned out differently in many ways, some of the base tendencies and struggles sound uncannily similar. Particularly the need for acceptance and fear of rejection (borrowing from Wendrick's lexicon).
The Pleiku days were particularly dark, and loneliness forced me into coping mechanisms of my own design, which is something I'm used to, and for the most part incompetent at. Let's just say it wasn't a great success, and resulted in significant collateral damage.
Like any other muscle memory, it's hard to open up and speak after a lifetime of silence. There are a few people who really help me open up. You know who you are, thank you. There was one person back in the day that I could speak freely with like no other. We used to call it the feeling of being naked in front of each other. There was a feeling of freedom from judgement and manipulation. Everything spoken was straight from the heart, and honest, with no expectations or outcomes in mind. Unfortunately, this was part of the collateral damage, and one that I feel most remorse for.
In this world I would be considered a very social guy, and I feel confident in my ability to blend into any social situation. The anti-social-anxiety type. However, it's merely a front, like an Import-Export company in a gangster movie. I use it to hide deep insecurities and loneliness. Maybe a fear of abandonment also helped me hone some social skills.
The mind is a sensory organ. It's merely a tool to perceive the world. The individual is a distinct from the mind, and for so long I had been a slave to the mind. Recently I've been able to detach the mind and look at it as a separate entity, and not react or be enslaved by its moods and swings. I can sense the mood coming from afar now. It doesn't mean I'm the Buddha, at least not yet. It's a start, and feels great.
