Reopening closed doors12:06 Dec 05 2010
Times Read: 528
I first fell in lust with vampires as a child, with the stories. I love the fictional vampire. As I grew, my interests in vampires changed but it was always there. Of course I went through the soul searching as a teen... wondering if I was one.
I have always been painfully logical. This causes a myriad of internal conflicts for me. I'm full of contradictions and it pains me. I'm spiritual but skeptical, I'm open minded and 'a believer', but there is always that logical aspect shaking her head at me going "Have you gone mad? You don't actually believe this do you? Where is the proof, the data, the studies?"
My favourite quote in the world is by Stuart Chase. "For those who believe, no proof is necessary. For those who do not, no proof is possible"
I resonate with both sides of that statement. I both need proof, and reject proof. It is exhausting, inside my head, sometimes.
So during my teenage curiosity when I wondered if I was a vampire that stoic, logical, mature side of me would scoff and tsk and roll her eyes. Of COURSE you're not a vampire you foolish girl, vampires are the stuff of paranormal romance novels, of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They aren't REAL. You just want them to be real because it would make you special... and different... and no one needed to know because that was part of the power.
So I rejected the thoughts, brushed it off as teenage curiosity. I threw myself into Paganism and witchcraft. I occupied myself in the Gothic scene with passion. I loved it. I loved the ability to hide in plain sight.
As I got older, and left high school, and moved out on my own, the goth scene changed. It was no longer secure and welcoming. It became nasty, cliquey, elitist. The people who where helping me hide became the very people I wanted to hide from. I no longer felt welcome, or worthy. I was back on the outer. Alone and afraid of myself and what I was or was not. I managed to make a few mainstream friends who loved me for me weirdness. I still felt.... misplaced. I would sit outside at night and yearn for the stars to take me home. I didn't belong here, with these people in this life. I turned to alcohol. I got drunk whenever I could. It numbed the pain for a while. Soon, though, that gnawing feeling was back. I started to self mutilate. There was something there, just under the skin, right there that had to get out.... so I bled it out... or wanted too.
Over time I managed to suppress the feelings again, for a few years before an emotional trauma bought them back out. I was accused, several times, of being a Psi Vamp - it was the first time I'd ever heard this term and I took it as an insult. I was accused to stealing energy on purpose. Of course, this was not the case, but the more I read the more I wondered if this really was an accurate title. Again Ms Logic came roaring into view and slammed my curiosity back into it's rightful place - that of vampire fiction and fantasy.
So here I am again, some 8 years on after the last episode. The past 10 or so years I have stuffed myself beyond return. I ate and ate and ate until I was too sick to think of anything but sleep. I ate until I was too sick to crave anything. I didn't know what I wanted, but it wasn't really food. I love food, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't satisfying that void, that emptiness inside. I have been to countless therapists over the years, all who end up telling me there is nothing wrong with me that they can fix (other than a few pretty horrible self esteem issues that have resulted from the over-eating). I'm not depressed, I'm not paranoid or bi-polar or schizophrenic. I'm intelligent, and well read, and I have dreams and desires and plans. I'm good with people and I love my children. I don't have sorrow or doubt or fear.
I just have this door... the one that I'm afraid to open again. The one that I'm staring at. The same one that's been there since I was young. Only now, it's not just the Logic that's keeping me away. It's the fear that I've destroyed myself too much to change. That I wont be accepted here either because I'm damaged goods. I rejected this "thing" inside me, whatever it is - I still don't actually know - for so long that I don't even know if it is anything at all. Maybe there is nothing there, maybe I'm just so used to eating to fill the void, that the void doesn't even exist anymore but I cannot break the habit.
I am so alone in this, and lonely from it. I'm 30 in 6 months time. I have two young children (one of whom has special needs). I don't have the time or opportunity to indulge in fantasy. I cannot even go out at night - the only time I feel at peace - because of my responsibilities as a mother. I feel chained to a life that was not meant to be mine. The saddest part is, I forced myself into this life. I ruined myself and denied myself my true nature for so long that this has become that mask I cannot take off. It's fused in place now.
I'm too scared to open that door, so for now I will just keep it in view, and glance at it every now and then to see how I feel.
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