Illogical paradox … I feel shame … I know I do … I must do … the actions I exhibit prove I do even if it seems as impossible as nailing down smoke to pinpoint it and go “Ah now that is shame”. This ‘shame’ pervades, infects and influences my outlook, yet even saying that creates ‘shame’ for having ‘shame’. But the illogical paradox captures me with the realisation and the inability to move. Shame is chasing in endless circles. Shame is the perpetual motion of keeping still. Paradox.
I feel ‘shame’ that I have emotions, while desperately seeking out those very emotions. Feeling shame for not owning them. Feeling shame for feeling them. Paradox.
I feel incomplete and ashamed of that incompleteness that I can see others’ emotions but cannot identify my own. Feeling fake that I can and ashamed that I do. Even ashamed that I understand the why of it. Paradox.
I turn from my self-
I feel fake because I exhibit the same responses as others: proof I must be fake because I must be copying, and the shame at knowing how illogical that is. Paradox.
Knowing that drive to have friends absurdly met by the decision we don’t want them. Feeling shame that we want friends, shame that we don’t and shame that they don’t even exist. Paradox.
The need to expose, prostrate ourselves before people we want to connect to, ironically forcing them away with that very intent. Shame for the need to do that and shame for pushing them away from that need. Shame for revealing at all. Paradox.
Desperately wanting the truth to be heard, the words to spill forth but feeling ashamed we want to speak of the horrors, the secrets that should stay hidden. Running from it, swallowing the words. Recoiling in shame at the inability, recoiling from the desire. Paradox.
Recognition of the need to be pushed, questions to be asked, to absolve responsibility and doubt, fear and hesitance. Knowing with certain shame that we should just do it, speak, care, make decisions, instead of shirking from responsibility. Sensing shame for the fact we are asking for the help we actually need to express. Paradox.
Ashamed of that need to be believed while demanding we are fake and criticising anyone who believes. Paradox.
The quest for the truth, for the past, while fighting and proving and demanding of its impossibility. Ashamed of our inability to remember and then overwhelmed by the shame of seeing what we find. Paradox.
Submitting to the constant need to find trust, ashamed that we cannot trust ourselves, believing the demands no-
Trying to fit in while remaining apart, ashamed that we even do want to fit in. Ashamed that we don’t through fear. Knowing we are wrong, feeling we are wrong, and hiding it while trying to belong. Ashamed we never will fit in at the same time as making sure we never will with self-
The lack of confidence in trusting our own reality, our own perception, so we stay self-
Disgusted at the invisibleness of us. Being secure at the invisibleness of us. Wanting to be seen but being ashamed of being seen. Paradox.
The constant need for rules and guidance, instructions outside while pushing, denying and turning away from ourselves inside, consequently feeling frustrated and ashamed at our inability to make a decision, self-
The drive to second guess, read, delve, dig and judge how others view us while not seeing how others view us and deny their views. Paradox.
The inability to trust words and actions while begging for them to prove others’ true intentions. Ashamed we don’t believe, ashamed we do believe. Paradox.
The need to be self-
The slamming of the box lid, firmly pushing away any feeling of failure when we succeed. Ashamed we failed in some unidentifiable way, ashamed we succeeded. Paradox.
Needs that demand to be met going unanswered while begging for them to be met. Ashamed for having the needs, ashamed we do not meet them. Paradox.
Ashamed we didn’t prevent the unpreventable but still try to when it isn’t happening anymore, and ashamed we are still trying. Paradox.
And shame, always shame at being like this, being so conflicted. Constant conflicts, like a dog chasing its tail. I wonder … if it ever managed to catch it, would it be satisfied or just howl in pain as its teeth sink in?
I am so frustrated, ashamed, at the lack of ability to move past this shame when I can see it. I wonder if the ultimate paradox is that … the shame of being like this, conflicted, tortured, unsure, doubting, hurting, us, is keeping us this way. I wish I could break this cycle and even as I type that the failure of saying I can’t right now, or that I said it at all chokes me with that thing called shame that is trying to silence me. I just feel shame at being me, living, breathing and existing.
Shame is chasing in endless circles. Shame is the perpetual motion of keeping still. Shame is keeping us the way we are ashamed of. Paradox.