Popping the Bubble of Insecurity

I stand before the world but behind the walls of the box called insecurity I was placed in through bullying and never found the key to get out. Most of the blame belongs on my shoulders as I allowed this state to cost me many things that mattered a great deal in my life. At 41 I’m searching for the means to break the box but afraid I’ve chased away all my support.

Bullying is a crippling affliction when it starts young and barely lets up in the adult life. Growing up in an era when we didn’t have the massive support; being shunted behind the doors with signs reading, “Boys will be boys,” and “You know how kids are.”

Many are the feelings of wanting to fold; to give in; to lose hope. My fight is with hope and the honest belief the walls of my self-imposed prison are too thick to break. I try. Oh…how I try, to pop the bubble and reconnect to the important past but I’ve been left behind and do not know enough of the current world to connect to anyone new.

I’ll continue to try but I run from the grip of an early grave with slower and slower steps as I dive headlong into the very activities; or lacking the active; that’s turning me to face it rather than run. I sit here in front of my computer day in and day out, smoking, feeling my body getting weaker by the day and caring less and less if I ever find the real answer.

I send out my cry within the bubble; expecting backs to be turned with the earbuds in and continue to try and fail to find even one who’ll take the distractions out of their path and see something valuable worth preserving.

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