I Don't Need a Metaphor - COMPLETED

fifteen

I feel this book is coming to a close. I started writing this book when I was 18. I started this series when I was 15. I am now 22. I believe I've finally reached the end to this chapter of my life that I've been living in for the past four years.

Honestly, I've been contemplating this ending for quite some time. It just never felt quite right, yet here we are. I think we have finally made it. A lot has happened in the past year. I've traveled. I've partied. I've done my fair share of crying and screaming alone in my car. I have met so many people and had so many experiences with them. I met a man and got married. I moved states. I have finally learned how to trust and make friends again. I've started making huge leaps towards my career path.

There's so much more even throughout the whole four years that I never even expounded on. I have a few drafts that have been sitting in mid-sentence for days, weeks, and months. They'll probably stay there, honestly. I may write about those experiences later on in my next installment.

To be honest, I have no idea when the next part is to come. No one really reads this, anyway, but I've found it to be a great coping technique for me. I'm afraid of therapy. For some, it's easier to trust a stranger with their complete vulnerability. I am not one of those people. I'm starting to open up to the idea, though. In lieu of a counselor, I prefer to write everything down anonymously. It helps with articulation. Not just with the words I speak but with my understanding of my own trauma, emotions, reactions, and experiences.

I believe there is a difference between how I may explain my trauma and emotions to others in comparison to how I write about them. It's such a stark difference to me that I almost feel like they're coming from two different people. Sometimes, I feel like two different people, though. That's a chapter for another day, I think.

This book title (I Don't Need a Metaphor) originates from a PVRIS song. Specifically, "What's Wrong." Life has taken a toll on me. On my mind and body. To be fair, I'm sure I put myself through half of the shit I'm struggling with now. Some may disagree.

I have always had an issue with communication. Although I fucking hated my relationship with my ex-boyfriend Kane, I learned a little bit about how to communicate from the three years we were together. I did happen to be with him at the time I started this book. I discovered the best way to communicate with him was to speak literally. To be raw and upfront. It was almost like the metaphors I would use in my writing to help myself understand only made Kane not take my emotions seriously.

I conditioned myself to speak about the same topics in two different tongues. Literal and raw for interpersonal relations. Metaphoric and descriptive for intrapersonal. Recently, I discovered that leaving it at literal and raw makes me feel as if not enough steam was let out of the pot. Especially when I'm talking to my husband. Not once has he ever been inconsiderate to my feelings. He understands my brain works in a different way. He understands how I see things, even if he doesn't see them the same way.

I think, out of fear, I have censored myself to prevent true vulnerability with others in a verbal context. It's like I can't say the words I'm truly thinking. The concepts rolling around in my skull aren't allowed to pass through my lips. I'm no longer granted the ability to paint the picture through conversation.

This next chapter of my life brings about a lot of healing. I've already done quite a bit of that in the past year, give or take. I'm no longer angry all the time. I'm calm and in touch with my emotions. I still have a lot of work to go through, though. I'm getting better, but I need to keep going.

I was wrong. I think I do need a Metaphor.