Bracing For Discard

-A self portrait narrative-

I often struggle with projecting my thoughts of who people think I am, with what really is my own internal dialogue of myself. "Fear And Loathing" by Marina is one of my favorite songs, and these lines hit close to home:

"Now I see,

I see it for the first time

There is no crime in being kind

Not everyone is out to screw you over

Maybe, yeah just maybe,

they just want to get to know you."

I live realities that have not yet proven to exist, create thoughts and judgments I have not directly heard, and prepare my heart for a warfare that hasn't even weathered the ground.

I defend myself when there's nothing to defend, shut people out when I need to open the door, and brace for discard, even when there is nothing to brace for.

I take an emotional knife and stab my own heart and simultaneously convince myself it is protection.

I don't want to feel used or thrown away or discarded like a piece of scribbled paper, and so, I brace for discard before I can even be discarded. I strap myself down with an emotional seatbelt; an illusion of protection. But here's the thing:

Bracing won't take away the hypothetical, potential pain any more than letting walls down will. Pain is pain. Hurt is hurt. Whatever unfolds...is what is going to unfold. And I think that sometimes, the brace for discard creates an entirely new layer of destruction and pain, suffering and torture, sabotage and inward warfare; an addition that doesn't have to be there in the first place.