No one is testing you.
All the shit that happens to you is not a test.
There is no one to test you.
However, you can become mindful enough to see the lesson
and see the teacher.
Your pain became your identity didn’t it?
How could it not. It’s all you’ve ever known.
You identify so closely with your pain and your trauma
that the thought of letting go of it scares you.
And why wouldn’t it?
It’s so comfortable to hurt. It’s so familiar to be sad.
It’s what you’ve always done.
You know what to do with sad and you know how to be depressed.
You know how to want and complain, and you know how to be ungrateful.
You know so well how to harbor regret and contempt.
It’s gratitude and happiness that you have trouble with isn’t it?
You aren’t sure how to let is slip away.
If you do that who will you be then?
You don’t know that person.
That person that isn’t weighted down by childhood trauma.
That trauma is a security blanket for you.
You cuddle it.
Wrap yourself in it.
Wear it like a hat or maybe a shaw.
This way everyone knows how hard it is for you.
You had it the worst.
Your pain is so real.
No one understands how real your pain is.
Maybe you keep it in your pocket?
Maybe you hide it away in a box, and only take it out
and show it to those closest to you.
That way they know who you are.
They know just how much you hurt.
Maybe you don’t show them at all?
Do you hide it from everyone because if you showed them
they might tell you it’s not the disaster you thought it was?
Maybe you aren’t the damaged child you have
invested so much of yourself into being?
Or maybe you know it’s just not as real as you need it to be?
I mean really, if you’re not abused and misunderstood who would you be then?
Thank you to everyone who engages me, discusses with me and just gets plain weird with me. It is all appreciated. Even the ones that try to “save” me.