I could stop myself from writing. I could. Unwanted images appear in my mind though I give them no permission to be there. I must accept they are there, but despite their insistence, I push back at them. I want them to budge. I tell them to get the fuck out.
I censor them. I do not give them voice. I choose not to speak them, or write them.
My opinions, however, are a very different thing. If i have a side on which to sit there will be a side about which i am compelled to comment. If the other side is faulty, i may bark. The structure of my opinions may be compromised occasionally by misinformation or pre-existing prejudice. I may have overlooked this malaise of an earlier, more naive time. With a flick of the tongue, my error can be corrected and i will be gracious and thankful for that. I will be thankful for the education. It can but make a better person of me.
But i won't keep quiet now. I've been silenced too many times. I was young once, and when i was young, i was really bloody young. You wouldn't believe. Why? The reason- it was inevitable. I was a seen-and-not-heard child. What comes from this? Awkwardness. Insecurity. Un-sure-ty (Is that a word?). Either way, it infests, and manifests as shyness.
Shyness is crippling. You become an observer of life rather than a partaker in it. I wanted to play an active roll, but had to watch others enjoy the experience.
My shyness despised me, as it despises anyone who has first hand knowledge of it. It would slander me and shout out to those around me: "Look at this guy. What a twat! Take the piss out of him!!!"
And they did.
They had their fill and my shyness metamorphosed into an inferiority complex. I couldn't defend myself- i was too shy.
So i was inferior. But i was also intelligent- to an extent. I knew i had a brain and so took the opportunity to prove it. You can't just say you're intelligent though, you have to show people by saying intelligent things. Impossible for a person who can't speak. How ironic. You give me an exam and i'll excel. Ask me to write a speech and i'll run one off in a flash. But give me an issue to comment on and i'll shake my head and tell you timidly i don't know.
"Better remain silent and be considered a fool, than open your mouth and remove all doubt." My shyness would prod at me. Well, fuck-tee-doo...
But i'm not a fool. I'm smarter than all these intellectual pygmies that surround me.
So, i had an inferiority complex and a superiority complex. This really fucked me up. Imagine being looked down upon by those who couldn't string together a coherent... a coherent... a coherent... what's the word?
Sentence?
So, i was in my late teens and I knew my life was going to go bad, but i still hoped...
Hope. A Cardinal Virtue, but in actual fact the worst of the Deadly Sins. Nothing holds you back- nothing promotes long-term procrastination like hope. Remove hope and we stop waiting and start doing.
I lost everything. I lost everyone i ever loved and everything i ever had. My family checked their watches, kicked lazily at a dusty floor and pointed at non-existent marks on the wall just so they didn't have to acknowledge my struggles, rather than have to reach out and help me.
I lost everything. And while i was losing everything, i had no opportunity to speak. Those with the power to control my fate had twiddled their thumbs, sat back, had a massage, gone for brunch, attended soirees, then, when sufficient time had passed, informed the world rather blithely, "well, all this palaver has being going on for so long now [completely our fucking fault] and the damage has been done."
My words were worth nothing. So i was advised to stay quiet, despite having so much to say. I had so many things to say that would disarm my attacker. I had so many weapons to throw back. I knew i should be victorious.
But I was told to be quiet.
And i did.
And when i went to bed at night, my mind would not forgive me for my taciturn capitulation.
[constant pain]
My mind will not forgive me. Not now. Not ever. With every spare moment my mind has to relax and recuperate, it shows me everything i lost. It leads me through the words i should have said and the arguments i should have raised. The things i should have said but didn't. I stayed silent. And pain gets greater. I'm pushed so far beneath the surface of the ocean of my mind, whenever i re-surface, i feel like i have the fucking bends. And the damage is accumulative. The pounding against my skull is constant.
Because i was censored. Because i stayed quiet.
I was told to stay quiet today, because i was talking about politics and religion. "Do something about it, or stop posting shit on Facebook."
My brother once told me to shut up. I was 13 and Margaret Thatcher had done something to piss me off so i began to voice my annoyance with her.
"Shut up, Chris!" He said with disdain.
I didn't talk about politics again. I stayed quiet. I shouldn't voice my opinions. I shouldn't even have a voice. Voices cause embarrassment. And a shy person does NOT want to be embarrassed. They'd rather die!
I'm older now and my shyness is more or less behind me. More or less. There are times i'll feel insecure in other people's company, but on the whole, i can open my mouth and issue forth with the best of them. Maybe not the best of them, with the better than average of them. I can certainly flap lips better than any shy fucker by god!
The person who told me not to voice my opinion today was a cousin. Is still a cousin. But, when the life has been beat the hell out of you, your resistance, or your ability to resist is greatly diminished. I know i over-reacted. It's what i do now. I over-react. I have no buffer. It's been eroded. It's been annihilated. My cousin, and my cousin's brothers and sisters (yes, they're cousins too), are now no longer in my present or future. 'Having fewer people to hurt you' is a stronger driving force than 'having more people to give you love'. Love can be taken away. When love is taken away, the pain is absolute. I have no ability to absorb or deflect this.
The incision has been made and the tissue removed. Without a body in which to mutate, the cancer cannot propagate.
But, this also leaves me without a body in which to live. I have not censored myself, but it seems i have once again found myself in silence.
