Saturday, February 6, 2010

my voice

My voice is missing. I try to speak, but it's a whisper. The louder I try to talk the quieter my voice comes out. This is frustrating. Maddening. But eventually I stop trying. Or give up. Or shrivel inside. Or boil inside. Or loose confidence that what I have to say is worth saying. Or that I can speak. Or that I should speak. But, thankfully, there are those I can still communicate with. Those who understand. Those who say that I should speak, that what I have to say is worth speaking. That I can speak. That I need to go and find that voice and put it firmly back inside my body and my head and move forward. Move on.

I have had tonsillitis for most of the last, what's it been, five or six weeks? Something like that. I've been sickish for ages. Low grade fever. Nasty tonsils. Ticklish cough. Not able to deal with things. And several times literally without a voice. We all used sign language, but I realized how hard it must be rely solely on sign language with your children. It's very hard to get the attention of a busy 17 month old and 4 year old without your voice. I've been to the the doctor twice and finished my second round of antibiotics a few days ago. I thought that I was all better, and that the ticking in my throat was surely something else, but this morning, sure enough, my tonsils are speaking up again.

So next week I will go back to the doctor, and he will give me antibiotics again. And all will eventually be well if I pop those nasty little pills and then repopulate the good things they exterminate. If only finding my Real voice was that easy. My voice that lets me out of myself. My voice that....that....I'm struggling for words to describe what I mean. My voice that is ME.

So much of ME is suppressed. For one reason or another so many of my dreams and desires and ideas and thoughts are put in a back room with the firmly door closed. I guess some of that is necessary in order to be a functional wage earning adult and parent, but too much of that practice is not healthy for mind or body. THINGS start to crawl out from under the door. Nasty smelly things. Creepy crawly things. Things that shouldn't be part of me. Things that I don't want to be part of me. Things I don't want associated with me. Sometimes the door slips open, usually when it has been opened to throw something else in, and all sorts of things tumble out and overwhelm the unsuspecting outside the door. This happens to me not infrequently, and my dear friends and family wipe me off and set me back up again.

There have been times in my life where I just threw open the door and cleaned out that back room. It's not necessarily easy or fun, but once it is done and I have found the important things once again and thrown out all the decayed or rotten things it has been easy to move forward. Sometimes on a completely different path. I am trying to get the courage to tackle that back room again. It is time for me to find the important things, dust them off, and bring them back out into the light. But how? Those dreams and thoughts and ideas are a bit light sensitive after being locked in a back room for years. My voice is scratchy from not talking and not being heard. Are those avenues of my brain grown over? How has my life changed and what is still relevant?

And then there is the balancing act. How do I clean out the back room while still maintaining the things that must be maintained? I can't magically and immediately be in a different situation where I can speak and my voice will be heard. Where I have constructive things to say and where my words are words from which action flows. Where I matter - as a person, as a thinker, as a doer, as me. Where I can Be Me. And Me is of value.

I'm trying to start small. Recognize that I'm worth hearing. Admit that I can be heard. Acknowledge that it's important for me to speak. That I must find a way. And I will. I will be Me. I will.

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