What lovely words: Convergence and Congruent. Say them out loud and feel an orgasm on your tongue.
Carl Rogers uses the term incongruence as the difference between the Ideal/Real Self and your Actualized Self. Here I shall use the word Congruent – as to mean the alignment of our Actualized Self to the Inner Self. As those two spheres align, one into the other, the more we come to peace, understanding, compassion and alignment.
For the last two years I have not allowed my two Selfs to be congruent. The Spheres have spun wider and wider away from each other and this has caused a disconnect within myself that manifested outwardly. Because I have been genetically bred to endure pain and suffering, and raised in a family where myself and my brother have taken the Protestant Work Ethic (just take out the God part as I was raised by atheists) to the nth degree, I have been good at denying when things are wrong and just powering through.
This year I’ve lost that ability. The planets broke their orbit and a crash was the result.
I started toying with the idea of death. Death didn’t seem that bad after all. At least I wouldn’t have to worry anymore. My obligation to duty though never allowed me to take it further then idle speculation.
I just couldn’t sleep. And when I slept, I woke up and didn’t feel rested.
I was able to suspend myself away from troubling interactions with people. I felt nothing because I knew if I did it would be too dangerous. I turned off any need to care.
My dyslexia which is pretty mild, worsened. I sometimes substitute words that aren’t appropriate but have similar sound: like the work fill for feel.
When my emotions did burst, they were wild and hysterical. These storms would pass over and I would clamp down even harder on the lid of Pandora’s box.
I’ve gotten myself into plenty of trouble before by allowing this state of affairs, but I was younger, stronger and had more dumb endurance, with a stronger sense of survival. The last three months have been horrible because the only way to stop this state of affairs was to quit a job I hated which provided money I needed.
It’s all nice and romantic to say you won’t do this because you are better than that and you will live your dream. But anyone who has gone to bed hungry, had a loved one in need of costly medical care, or has to pay for the shelter over your head, knows you will do what you have to do.
And that is what I’ve been doing – doing what I needed to do. However, it has taken a heavy price and now I am picking up the bits and pieces, needing to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
I haven’t broken myself beyond repair, but I feel like I’ve come pretty damn close.