The Insanity of My Hidden Self

 

There came a moment in my life when I could hear the insanity of what was going on in my head.  In real life the conversations would be absurd to say the least, insane to tell the truth.

I was getting even with someone, making excuses for my actions, my behavior, and telling people off. The conversations were always angry and hateful. Violent!

I’m two people.  The one that makes you laugh.  Even if you’ve seen me at my worst, you couldn’t imagine me in my head: the other me.

I’m two people.  The one that gives you anything I have, overwhelmed with compassion, seeing yet denying the worst about you.  And the one that will kill you if I don’t get my way—in my head.

I’m old now, and know the blame is not my father’s.  But, I still look for explanations for this insane  person hiding in my head.  

My father thought I was a sissy for not fighting enough.  When I did fight, it was the wrong person, the wrong method, the wrong place.  My father said.

I think he was two people too?  He was compassionate, but taught violence and violent ways.  He didn’t really practice what he preached?  I had to get old—to know.

The not knowing left me seeking violence, violent surroundings, violent experiences.  Always pleasing my father, in my head.   A very compassionate me laboring hard to act out—what I only heard.

I lost a lot before I knew.  Before I knew it wasn’t true.  Before I knew the respect I yearned for was from compassionate people, not violent people.

I pray each day that it’s not too late.  Not too late for me to stop killing people—in my head.  Not too late to stop telling people who I really am, and what I will really do—in my head.

Each day I labor to love, share, listen, understand, give.  Each day I practice being only one person.

I have a life behind that testifies that you are what you “think”.  That you become who you think about.

I know that is true to the very spot.  From my life behind.  

So, each day I labor to let that hidden Mike die, so that the love of Christ has a place to reside within me.  I labor each day to be consumed with new thoughts.  Thoughts that rebirth me—in my head.

What I give myself to, I become—I pray.

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