{ putting up walls }

Putting up walls.  Self protection.  A way to shut out reality.  To function.

These walls are hard.  These walls make me irritable.  These walls say I'm fine on the outside, when on the inside I'm hurting.  These walls hide the depression my body/mind are fighting.

These walls make me cold, sometimes.  These walls make me appear to be a downer.  Someone who doesn't have any will to fight this.  Drama.  Not willing to move on.  These walls change me.

But I need these walls.  Because I have to still function in the world.  Still go to work and not fall apart.  Still smile at strangers, have conversations with people.  Still able to go to events.  These walls make me able to somehow find a new normal.


These walls are real.  These walls are my body's way of surviving.  Of protecting any emotions/life in me.  These walls aren't denying what's happened.  These walls weren't chosen by me to be apart of my story.

But He chose to put these walls in my story. 

Therefore I'll accept them, and slowly start tearing them down.  Slowly, but gradually allowing myself to trust again. Breathe again.  Live again.  When, I don't know.

But these walls are here, and will one day be gone.  Until then, I press on.