I created this blog as a very private and very personal way to get my racing thoughts out of my brain and into a space where they could exist unhindered. Over the years, I have come here to wallow in heartache, revel in love, exult in my quiet victories, and splatter the screen with all the emotion I could not express in my own 3D life.
The life I lived on these pages… the woman I was here…this Felix…was vocal throughout her journey. She wept, screamed, laughed, and poured out the contents of her heart in way I could not do. I watched her life play out on screen and I so admired her. I envied her. And I could not wait for the day when Felix could be a living, breathing part of my daily life. The face that I presented to the world — smiling, calm, always willing to bend for the comfort of others — was a mask.
How long can that last? It’s not right. And it’s damn sure not healthy. Holding everything in one minute — the epitome of confidence — then, when no one is looking, turning to the keyboard, heart racing, mind a cyclone of emotion, fingers frantically trying to type the deluge of words. Quickly! Before someone comes and spots the tear on my cheek, or notices the look in my eyes, so unlike what they are used to seeing on the ever-smiling mask. Or before my poor mind gets so frustrated at this schizophrenic attempt to live in snatches of time that it just says “Eff this noise!”, pulls out a plunger, and jams Felix back into that box that she came bursting out of years ago. But I know the outcome of that: Darkness, Hopelessness, Death. So I keep typing.
Someone once told me that Felix is the personification of all the bad I had done in my life. That she is the liar and cheater I used to be (and by that thinking, still am) manifested into this woman-loving, freedom-needing, freely-speaking monster. For about a split second, I believed that.
Then, Felix’s strength started seeping into my 3D life. Allowing me to say things that I dared not say years ago: I am entitled to happiness. I deserve love AND respect. I will not suffer under a wall of guilt for the rest of my life. I am capable of standing on my own.
If that’s not growth. If that’s not positive. If that’s not real and deep and true, I don’t know what is.