The Sunday Archives, Vol.2, No.4
My lovely reader,
the title of this week’s The Sunday Archives may have alarmed you, or perhaps it was the very thing that inspired you to join me here.
I assure you, however, there is no cause for distress.
Although I do not know your personal history, I have come to realize that when we are in the process of becoming an entirely different being, we must first ’shed‘ the old versions of ourselves.
We are not, regrettably, creatures that molt. We cannot simply discard out of our old layers in the convenient manner that is called ‚ecdysis‚.
We cannot walk away from our former selfs so easily, however. Instead, our shedding must happen from the inside out. For us, this procedure is far less tidy and does not happen in a single, clean motion. At times, it arrives in the form of a very violent and exhaustive purge.
For the past two weeks, I have found myself in exactly such a state. I was numb – drained of all emotion, yet haunted daily by a series of endless, somatic weeping that seemed to come from my very bones. A sense of dread clung to my skin like heavy fabric, and at times, I felt almost paralyzed. I found myself unable to move, unable to prepare even the simplest of meals. In those moments, I was at the mercy of whatever convenience was close it hand.
In biology, the process of ecdysis – the shedding of the old – is a necessity because the former shell has become too tight, too restrictive for the creature inside.
Perhaps we might interpret this sense of dread and that burdensome paralysis as the suffocating realization that we are trapped in a life that no longer fits our spirit.
If that is to be the case, is there not a faint, shimmering hope that this pain is simply the price we must pay for our expansion?
Can I say that I have successfully overcome this purge? At present, a simple ‚I cannot be certain‘ is all I can offer. I still weep bitterly at times, and there are mornings when I wake to that same familiar sense of dread.
While the paralysis has begun to loosen its grip on me slightly, the somatic state I am in hasn’t quite decided to release me just yet.
I am, it seems, still in the delicate state of becoming – no longer trapped, but not entirely free, either.
However, even in these challenging times, my goals remain firmly in view.
I intend to take my recovery gently, day by day, but I shall not be surrendering to the shadows. I have been at my desk every single day this past week, facing the work and the world head-on, even when the purge demanded a total paralysis of the spirit.
The vessel may be failing at the moment, but the will remains entirely intact.
We must consider it a palace undergoing a massive renovation – the scaffolding might be ugly and there is dust everywhere, but the blueprints for the future are still being drawn amidst the chaos.
I am, quite simply, in the midst of my own ecdysis. The old shell is gone, and the new one is still soft and vulnerable.
But will that stop me from proceeding along my chosen path? Will it prevent me from fighting for my desires?
Most certainly not.
Until next time, dear reader.
The realm must be ruled.