I don't remember having a secret place as a child. I had an active imagination. I could create stories in my mind for hours. Sometimes they would get written out, but mostly they stayed in my head.
I would often retreat into my head and my stories throughout my life. Most of the time the stories would revolve around a hero of some type.
When I went through my emotional hell in 2010 the only place I wanted to be was in white nothingness.
I would close my eyes and imagine a world of white light. There would be nothing there, just me lying on a floor of white surrounded by white, maybe covered by a blanket of white and I could disappear into the whiteness. The silent white nothingness would swallow me up in it and I was safe. It was quiet, gloriously quiet, and empty.
This last weekend opened up the wounds deep, digging into long covered infections unknown.
Once again I find myself wanting the white, the nothingness, the escape where I can fade into it. The white light where nothing can hide, but I can no longer be seen. A place where silence reigns and my mind quiets.
My secret place, my escape is nothingness. I wonder what that means. A girl who wants to find home so badly, but the go to place she has created in her mind is invisibility, a non-existence.
Linking up with Faith Jam today.