In AP Government today, we talked about the "Separation of Church and State" in the Bill of Rights and the US Government. On one of my teacher's slides, he wrote "When it comes to the 'walls of separation'...". That got me thinking. I have a wall of separation. Actually, I have a bunch of walls of separation. In fact, I have quite a few walls, layers, that separate me from the world, my 100% true self from being exposed to my complete environment. Then again, though, everyone has. At least one wall, I think. At least most people, I think.
At the very least, clothing is a wall of separation. My clothes hide a lot. My clothes also say a lot about me that connect me to the world. However, my clothes are mostly a wall of separation. I praise the idea of clothes everyday, because my clothes have saved me many, many times. Perhaps, though, that is a story for another day.
There are bigger walls than just what I wear that separate me from the rest of the world. Walls that are more like picket fences and walls that are impossible to climb. Climbing all of my walls of separation can take forever. I, by now, should be able to maneuver myself around and over all of them, but, alas, I can't. I need a map that I don't have and some grappling hooks that don't exist.
The funny, or stupid (depending on how you look at it), thing is, there are those that I just kind of let in. Technically, there are 3 and half people that have been let in completely. (I say "and a half" because now that I look back on my relationship with JP, I didn't let him in as completely as I thought, which was, thankfully, a very good thing.) I have no idea why I let these specific people in, but I did and continue to do so (minus the half). On my one freewill, I let these people in without them having to do basically any work. I don't know why these people had such an effect on me, but they all did, all do. However, today I am not talking about those who have gone past my walls. I am talking about my walls of separation themselves. D, L, S, JP: you will probably be talked about on another occasion, not this one. LA and T come close, but haven't been let in. I feel like before I go beyond this part of this topic, they need to at least be brought up.
For a few weeks now, I have been crying. Only on the inside. I look fine. I see fine. Yet, I am not fine. You would never know by looking at me though.
I have so much to say, yet I'll never say any of it. My thoughts on my current situation, and the situations around me, will not be said. Inserted, they will sit in my head. My thoughts will fester and weigh me down. They always do. I've gotten somewhat good at carrying around said baggage. I still want a break. I still need a break. I need to see and try something new. Leave everything at the door and go explore somewhere beyond my home, my comfort zone. I want to climb over all my walls, my picket fences and mountain-high barricades. I just want to get out for a little while. Get out of my skin and stop being separate for a while. Embrace the world around me. Find something to submerge myself into that I haven't discovered yet.
I built my walls of separation, but that doesn't mean I'm completely proud of them or find them necessary. I don't always need or even want them. I just can't get rid of them. For so many reasons, these walls will continue to be present. I don't know where to begin.
In a few months, I'll be starting a new journey. Maybe this is good and maybe it isn't. Maybe I will be making the right choices and maybe I won't be. I'm not sure that, when I start, I will be able to leave my walls, even just some of them, behind. I built my walls, and they have surrounded me and protected me. Also, however, U have grown around them. They are a part of me, of who I am. I'm not sure I can give my walls of separation up. My walls of separation separate me from the world, but also separate the different parts of me- form myself and from my surroundings. My walls separate my parts that the world can see and the parts that I keep to myself. My outermost layer has no walls, but it is so far away from the "most susceptible to pain" part of me that I'm okay that is isn't protected. A few bangs and bruises will not ruin me. As long as I'm protected, I'll be fine.I'm not sure if I'm proud of my walls, or if I even need them. I am often happy, however, that they are there.
~ Not as Stuck