Patch

Posted Tuesday, March 26, 2024

1mo

INFJ

Capricorn

2

3

Dispassionate soul.

I don’t talk to my mother. During my teenage years a common discussion would be my eyes: “I hate your eyes. They’re Blue lakes of ice. I don’t know what you’re thinking. Eyes are the mirrors to soul and I can’t see yours.” Since then I've worked on the face I present to the world but the thought's always there…. I don’t fit in. At 18 I had a “falling out” with my father (he recovered). I was asked to leave. I joined the army to train dogs. You can’t lie to a dog did you know that? Well, you can but you have to be an exceptional liar. A dog smells your mood in the scent you give off. Sees the lie in your words from the way you stand and the tone of your voice. Training dogs teaches you two things; to read reactions quickly and accurately……and to lie. To believe in a lie so much it’s reality. My mask was there, challenging anyone to see through. Not many did and those that do I count as my closest friends because they’ve see ME and not recoiled from the ice-blue stare. This is not to say I don’t scare those close to me at times. The inner turmoil and rage breaks through completely for a brief moment at these times the mask goes back up and quickly. In 15 years I’ve seen true horrors and acts of bravely so selfless and profound they’ve shook me to the core. I’ve seen what men can do to his brother/sister and their children. I’ve seen the depths mankind will go to to inflict pain and death for no other reason than they can. Oh sure they say it’s for religion, power and money or it was simply “following orders” but it boils down to the same thing. They could. I’ve also seen courage and honour. Brother/sisterhood so strong that death is an acceptable price to pay. This has humbled me more than I can say. A mother who disowned me and a father who lied to me as soon as I could comprehend the spoken word. 12 years serving queen and country. 1 Depression, 2 marriages, 1 divorce, 10 moves, have produced a weird creature. It’s simply easier and less painful to disassociate, to dissemble and to distance. To stare through those ice-blue eyes, smile and tell you what you want to hear. Don’t let the grins, laughter lines or jokes fool you. The mirror to the soul is one way and the soul is looking out at you… thinking. For years this is the way my thoughts ran and still do. I’m near to tears writing this as I realise how broken I was/am. Recently I opened up. Just once and not by much. But the process has begun. I have my support and a few close friends to thank for that (you know who you are). It’s ok to be broke but not to accept it. I have to grow, to trust, to heal. Yes it will let pain in but it will also let so much more in….. And out. I’m not going to cheapen this entry with a cheesy platitude, lighten the tone with some self-deprecating humour. This entry is an honest statement of fact. It’s how I see myself and I have to stand up to the mirror if any change is to occur. It’s the confession of a dispassionate soul. I will heal. (edited)