I Almost Felt Like I was Actually Alive

 

 Existing vs. Being Fully Alive

  On a nice Autumn day, do you really feel the gentle, refreshing breeze as you walk down a sidewalk? If you stop at an outdoor cafe to eat lunch, do you really taste the food as you eat it? Do you sit and take-in, breathe-in all of the world around you? If someone comes walking by and says "Great day outside," do you respond with a "Yes, it's beautiful" or do you look away?

Well, I can answer "NO" to these questions, and admit that I am not fully alive. Every day of my young adult/adult life I have lived in automatic-zombie mode. Recently, I have walked outside and thought "what a beautiful morning!" And I've imagined myself frolicking across the neighborhood greeting the day and everyone I encounter. For just a few seconds, I get a glimpse of what it must be like to be fully alive. For just a few seconds...

Every time I see the Bette Davis movie, Now Voyager, I get choked up during a scene where she admits she's never felt alive. Her character in the film, Charlotte Vale, is a woman in her 30s who has lived all of her life at home, under her codependent mother's thumb. Charlotte is codependent on her mother and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, when her sister-in-law rescues her.

After spending time in a sanitarium, Charlotte is provided with a cruise to South America, courtesy of her sister-in-law. On the cruise, we immediately see the new Charlotte on the surface, wearing make-up, dressed in the latest fashions and free to be herself-- if only she can find that self inside.

Charlotte meets a man on the cruise and the two of them build a lasting bond with each other after Charlotte opens up and confesses to him that her family is dysfunctional and that she has just been released from a mental hospital. Instead of running, the man (Jerry) empathizes with Charlotte and shows her photos of his dysfunctional family. As she finishes crying, she says to him "Oh, thank you, thank you... for a few moments I almost felt like I was actually alive."

As a recovering codependent, that last line hit me right in the heart. And I asked myself "Have you ever felt fully alive?" The answer was "No." I realized then that I'd simply been existing. The last time I felt fully alive must have been before I entered First Grade in school. 

After watching that scene, I wanted to cry as easily as Charlotte did, but I wasn't graced with the tears I needed to begin my healing process. The very process that would lead me to being fully alive. Tears have only come once to me in recent years, and those tears didn't last long enough to provide true healing.

Still, I have pushed myself to grow past my shell at times, reaching out to other people on occasion. Walking, I have greeted people passing by and they almost always respond. If someone says "Good morning" to me, I respond in kind. I feel good afterwards, but I'm not able to hold on to that feeling or the comfort of possibly being alive that it offers. I always end up regressing into my outer-armor to protect myself from being hurt in any way.

I affirmed to myself today that the problem is my inner-child/inner-teenager. I am still so wounded from those years, that the adult me can't move past the protective barriers that served me years ago, but keep me dead to live today. I tell myself "There's no need to continue hiding behind the outer walls I've built. The past is gone, no one is hurting me today, and even if someone did verbally assault me, I know now that there words would really reflect the way they feel about themselves-- not about me.

I want to fully feel alive before I die. I strive for it every time I leave the house, but I can't seem to fully break free from my mental prison walls. Unfortunately, my Higher Power doesn't seem to be very helpful. I believe I have a partnership with God: I do what I can to help myself and I leave the rest to God. I feel like I'm trying to help myself by reaching out, but I don't feel the presence of Higher Power working with me.

It's frustrating, but hopefully things will gracefully move forward so I can leave the miserable world of my thoughts and fully enter the real world-- and stay there. I'd like to be able to walk on a breezy, Autumn day and fully feel the cool air. I'd like to eat my food slowly and truly taste how good it is. I'd like to be greeted by someone and greet them back well enough to begin a friendly conversation. And I'd love to talk for hours, even if I never see that person again. 

I want to shine and radiate my fully alive inner-being to the world around me.