Trust

Dear trust,

 

My dear trust, why must you, of all strongholds, play truant? I remember our high school days; you and I were earning each other’s respect. I looked you up in the Oxford English Dictionary and there you were, ready for me to hold a ‘firm belief in the reliability, truth, and ability’ in myself.

But somewhere along the road you abandoned me. You reversed yourself, turned yourself inside out in a macabre show of organs and blood vessels: fickleness, uncertainty, inconstancy.

When you left, I was nothing. My trust in myself evaporated as ‘myself’ became changeable, and unknowable. I had no trust left, no trust in my own being.

How can a person manage without trust in themselves? What happened to the inner world I once inhabited? The landscape was no longer solid. The babble of internal voices on the wind turned frosty. The paths were hidden, and at every twist were liars.

Where once was confidence, now emptiness fogged my thoughts.

Where once was possibility, now doom gonged, low and constant and harrowing.

When fears reigned over my thoughts, there was no firm ground to hold my feet. They changed minute by minute, swerving to avoid collision with each other. Nothing was true, nothing was false, and so nothing was. Unable to manage swimming, daily floating, I could only run, wildly searching every room for the trust I’d lost. Where did you go? Where did you hide? It isn’t funny anymore!

The meds only tricked me into thinking you were there, or that I could get by without you. Now, finally now, I am beginning to find you again. I know you’re gone now, and you aren’t coming back. I have to build you from scratch, just as before, because you’ve always been an automaton that I made. A teddy bear in the night when I miss home.

Because I’ve always only ever had what was here. But I will build you a roost and you will be made again.

 

Yours faithfully,

Christina

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