Eyelid Armour

The sadness was right there. I could see it reflected back at me. Do you really care that much about me? Why does that hurt so much?

That makes me want to cry.. When am I going to let that go and let things make me cry – instead of this aching want for something I never allow to happen?

I use my eyes to hide. And I do it really well. I pull away – I pull inside. Away from you. Away from anyone. Away from everything I truly want. Connection. Comfort.

I want it – my mind tells me I want it too much. That I can’t want it that much and if I do I shouldn’t get it because it can’t be healthy, or right, or fair to others.

Fucking eye contact. It might be a huge key for me. It’s so hard to not look away. I’m not just being dramatic here – it’s really fucking hard for me.

There’s so much there. And I know it. I have so much in my eyes – it feels like a burden to let people see the intensity. The sadness. The pain. The anger. The hurt. The power.

Expressing myself through the written word is powerful – but it is controllable. Very controllable. My eyes have no such control. There are no barriers if I hold your gaze. My only option of control, of filters, of barriers, is to pull away. Hide behind my eyelids.

My eyes are what I’m missing. And they terrify me.

I can’t protect you from what you see. I can’t protect me from your response. I have no control when I give you my eyes – the only control being how long I give them to you. I let people glimpse this inner world. I let myself get moments of care and comfort and acknowledgement of what’s inside. But then I pull away.

I can’t have more even if I want it. It’s risky. It’s needy. It’s hurtful. It’s burdening those you look at. I don’t deserve to be seen like this. Not so raw. Not so direct. Not without barriers. Not without my filter. Not without protection.

I write authentically. I express the raw to be read on your terms. I choose when to read your comments on those words, on my inner world. I get to put up my own filters of what you say and what it means. I get to let it be something without it having to be something between us. And I can guarantee if you talk to me about the words you read in person, I won’t be looking at you.

It’s much harder to deny your sense of genuine care and connection when you’re looking into my eyes. When I can see it in your eyes.

Perhaps writing has been my way of trying desperately to fill this need without breaking the barrier of true vulnerability – true connection.

I’m so guarded. And I hate it. I’m not even sure others would see me that way – because I am very open in one sense, I’m authentic and I share a lot. But when it comes to taking that connection in, or expressing the emotion, even sitting with the good feelings – I am so guarded in letting them in or letting the emotions in me out. So destructively guarded.

That voice – you don’t deserve it. It’s not okay to hold that or own it. It’s not safe.

Love, belonging, connection – give it away like nothing, but don’t let it in.

It’s time to break these barriers and know what it truly feels like to be connected.

I know I need to do this. However difficult. However much pain may be waiting on the other side. I believe it’s the biggest thing that holds me back, inside and out.

So, if I just decide that I’m going to try to get my needs met – just say fuck whatever pain will come and fuck what it says about me – and fuck what I may feel or think as a result of actually letting someone in. If I say fuck the barriers and fuck what happens out in this place I’ve never allowed myself to go.

It’s time to stop hiding. I must will myself to stay there – completely vulnerable and unprotected in this vast field of corneas – and see what happens when I don’t go away.

2 thoughts on “Eyelid Armour”

  1. Thanks for sharing Jeana. It can’t be easy to go through this let alone make sense of it in any comprehensible way. Maybe this is the illusion we all pretend is true – that there is any separation between us. We can hide, but we’re still connected.

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