The Same Old Shame

As a response to my previous post, I am writing this without barriers. I am looking into the icy gray wind and facing the honest answers. This is what I see when I ask where the anger comes from.

She emerges from the suspended comfort of December, from the holiday-fabricated bubble that postpones making decisions and facing any difficult or otherwise soul-ripping situations. As she steps into January, ice hits her like a million grains of sand cutting her to pieces, but she stands still and strong. She knows it's time.

Yet, it is this very knowledge that wants to defeat her. It is knowing what must be done and what hasn't been done that shames her. It is knowing that she has, at times, compromised her resolve in the name of peace. It is the image of her obliging a man in the name of peace that shames her.

And every time she remembers that there are things she hasn't done, because for now it's easier to keep the peace, she feels the same old shame...and she wants to slay it...with her images...of cutting.

Afterthought:

I have been trying to answer this question for a few weeks now, and every time I sat down to write the proverbial wall went up. I found that I couldn't bring myself to look into this part of me. Finally, this morning I started to write again and decided to try to look at it in the third person. I thought maybe it would be easier to write about myself as if I were watching from the outside...it worked.