Cleaning out my Closet

Cleaning the closet has to start with you and be something you want to do. Cleaning your closet is for your benefit: to expose your deepest fears, pain and insecurities to yourself, admit  them then own them; and to claim  your mistakes and faults. It’s for you to dig up old talents and knacks that you forsook as life got more demanding and yes, it is to throw away all those things that have gathered dust and moth . What is gathering dust and moth in the Closet of your mind?

In my mind, I confront and admit my deepest fears of ever trusting anyone (yet I will believe unfailingly in the good in them; objectively), of ever loving too much (and the hypocrite I am, I demand full, undiluted and all consuming love) and of failing everyone around me. It is a crippling fear of mine to be perceived or labeled a failure, disappointment or ungrateful. Simple solution, I start eliminating the importance of many in my life; if they don’t  matter , then it does not matter what they say. It no longer cripples me to fail or disappoint anyone but myself. The process works, as long as you keep up the mantra and  stayinduced with the inner you. I also confront what makes me anxious, apprehensive, defensive; but more so, anything that makes me want to retreat further into my safe shell (ter). I open my closet to see ALL I have gathered and stored over time; even my mistakes and vengeful/ spiteful acts, which makes me feel chagrined by my own behaviour ( though I will say they were just, warranted, at that time, in my own twisted and self righteous way).

I own all of those thoughts, actions and words that make me turn in my own grave (while living) when I take the time to recap. Did I do that? Yes, I did . Am I proud? Not always. Do I still love me after having some all the abominables? Yes. Do you still love me? NO (That is assuming you did in the first place. Especially if you have been wronged or cheated by me). Am I sorry? Sometimes (only if you were innocent and spotless through it all.) Does it matter that you hate me now? NO (I would have apologized to all I have wronged who have been completely honest in the matter. Everyone else, it is a case of stand off: you hate me; I more than abhor you. In fact, I sometimes wish I could cut off my tongue rather than speak to you and gorge out my eyes rather than make eye contact with you. You have all become unimportant ; on this I am #UNAPOLOGETIC). 

I also, sometimes, for a brief moment, take off and park, the hat that my inner bitch wears, and I don the scarcely worn one of that young person that is still struggling to find footing in an unstable world; amidst all the pain she has suffered (as have many others). That hat is hardly worn (hence, usually dusty) but was still given a special/sacred place in my closet and has even taken root in the foundation of the closet. Of course, borne of my fears is my good ‘ole insecurities, that too are hardly risen to the light but are debilitatingly rooted, nonetheless. Deeply and strongly entrenched and ingrained, these twins are (the bitch and the naive). In that part of my closet, I look to those who always promise and say they’ll be there for me, like ‘Where you at?’. Where is that strong and dependable shoulder I was assured that I can cry on? They were false promises (seductively given) yet empty and null at the appointed  time. 

In my closet, I see my hidden talent in writing. I see me penning thoughts, ideas and even just arguments to be presented boldly; and I wonder when did that boldness dim. I see me giving myself therapy through how I expressed my feelings and gave them an outlet; until I got too tired to even think past how increasingly tired I was and had become, since the last time that talent shone through. I saw how those sessions with pen and paper, helped me to vent, straightened my backbone, mostly because I awed myself that I could be so coherent; despite everyone saying (and treating me) like an indecisive, incapable, unintelligent scatterbrain, who cannot form the most miniscule of thoughts for herself; so much that I had to adopt others personalities to make an impact. Little did I understand that people will label and treat you in a way that makes them feel less threatened and more powerful. I am not going to argue this point now, there will be other opportunities to make my claim and state my cause.

I am throwing away everything that I have been accused of without any trial (much less a fair,unbiased one). That even though no courtesy was shown, I felt honour bound to clear my name and state my side of the story. I say ‘SCREW YOU‘ to everyone who doesn’t think I am worth more than cheap accusations and unfair labels, like b*****, who are you for me to sit and explain my entire life to you (which does not guarantee you will see my side any at all)? The last I checked GOD was not hiring out HIS position .All this had taken up enough space in my closet, that none of the owners deserved nor proved worthy for. ALL is being thrown out like the useless garbage they are, whose value is to only be a refuge for dust and moth.

Cleaning out my closet (I am not anywhere near finished, but I know what is to be done, even if it takes my entire life , no one will do it for me, I have to want this for myself), is where I am and will remain good enough and strong enough for me, as only I can do that. Everyone else only wants claims in your life with no substance or feel justified in using you as they have an inkling and GOD forbid you ask them to reciprocate. Well I am GOOD ENOUGH despite what you think, say and judge me by. I AM MY OWN HERO. My brilliant and poor choices are all made with me in mind, you may forget me but I am too memorable to myself. My closet contains too much to be easily terminated.

I drew inspiration from another to title this publication.

Have you ever been hated or discriminated against? I have. I been protested and demonstrated against.” – Eminem

“I done seen enemies become friends, on the account of discriminating , criticising, ostracising me and building cases  and boundaries- all in their effort to box me in. -Ci’laene


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