Keeping the world at bay takes it toll. In the end, you eventually wither and die, or live lonely, miserable and forced to wear a smile every day so no one knows the difference. I've come to think I don't like either of those outcomes.
I'm giving up some of the things I find comfort in. That's the tricky part. I have to sacrifice the audience...and the hate filled rhetoric and venting. I'm just now realizing those things were/are temporal. The hate filled venting can continue for only so long before it begins to sound like an irritating broken record...before it turns into the pit of misery I have allowed myself to wallow in. The audience...most of them will humor you for a period of time, but then they grow sick of listening to the rhetoric and watching you wallow in your own misery. They will grow weary of listening to you while you effectively continue to drop a quarter in the soda machine but never receive the soda. Eventually the audience will quietly put their bags of popcorn down, lift up their seats and exit the theater. And then...you're left alone.
It felt good for a while...it was therapeutic in some weird way...the ranting...the open expressions of hate and anger...reliving the past day after day after day. It continues to "feel" therapeutic. But the reality is that by continuing this behavior I'm taking one step forward and two steps back, I think.
It's time to lower the sword. It's not going to turn everything "OK." I realize that. It won't erase the hurt. It won't make my anger magically disappear. But it's a start. A start to, hopefully, a better way of dealing with all the baggage because, obviously, the sword is not advancing my position. It's time to try a different tactic. I'm smart enough to know when I'm running around in circles. And I'm humble enough to know when to say, I've been going about this the wrong way.