What's The Use?

"What's the use?" people say - all the time, as they wring their  hands and sigh. I can't begin to tell you how many people I speak with who are stuck in complacency and wallow in apathy about the paths life has led them upon. The sheer numbers of people wo have given up on having an identity of their own - or knowing who and what they are - is growing at a frightnening rate, despite the many resources we have.

I recognise this characteristic disaster because I lived it for a small, but important, portion of my life. I remember, well, the feelings of helplessness, insecurity, and the continual ride of the emotional roller-coaster as I stood quietly trapped inside the fear of who I really was - and in part, fear of making the wrong decisions based on other peoples' judgements. But as I stood motionless, the fear magnified itself and tried to render me even more useless than I felt and even more worthless as a mother, a wife and human being. 

 It slowly began to affect those around me and those who tried to coax me from my safe cocoon of doing nothing-ness until I finally found myself almost incapable of interacting with people at all - save for the ones who depended on me for daily contact. And those very people were the ones I had to rediscover myself for... they were my family.

Oh, don't get me wrong - on the outside I was cheerful, polite, and I always made time to get the things done that were expected of me or asked of me. I hid my fear well. I was the epitome of grace under fire when confronted by the daily challenges of life and the needs of my kids. But underneath it all I was terrified and had no real faith in who I was or why I was loved. I didn't believe I deserved love or happiness. I had failed myself by not acknowledging what "I" really wanted in life. (What was the use in wanting or needing for myself? I didn't deserve it.) I was too afraid to really feel things and voice my opinion and reach out and GRAB what I thought would inspire me, revive me or help me grow.

I focuded only on what my family wanted and needed and made it my crusade to give them those things, regardless of the way it made me feel inside. And I told myself, daily, that it was the right thing to do - in fact, the ONLY thing to do. But I paid the price for it and it took many years to undo the wounds that ignoring myself had created in my soul.

But, like the phoenix, I was tested by fire and lived to tell the story.

To be continued..........................