The whole thing is supposed to be fun. At least that's what they say. So, here I am, stuck up here with my friends at this stupid weekend 'exercise' in bonding. We're already friends. Doesn't that mean we've bonded?
I'm trying hard to have a good attitude. These(more) are my friends, afterall. But, in the back of my mind, I have this nagging feeling that this whole weekend was planned to prove my loyalty or something.
"We're just going to have fun!"
"It's an adventure! We get to ride a zip line and have some great laughs all together?"
Whatever. I just want to go home. They can bond all they want while hanging over the forest by a string. Why do I have to join them?
But I don't want to be belittled by my friends. I want to prove to them I am one of them, that I can do this. So, I'm stuck at a weekend from hell to show I'm a loyal part of the team.
It goes surprisingly well. I did about wet myself on the zip line. And that stupid game where you're all supposed to trade spots while lined up on a log, without falling off the log? People were a bit too close for comfort, but I survived.
It wasn't until the free fall backwards, that I lost it. You know that one where your friends line up behind you, and you blindly fall backwards and they'll supposedly catch you? No way. Uh-uh.
"We'll catch you. Trust us!"
It ain't happening. My body is so brittle it's about to shatter. I can't breathe. I wanna run.
In the end I fail the test. I can't let go. And deep inside I know it's because I don't trust them. Not really.(less)
How long are you going to imprison yourself? You will never be happy here. You'll always be hiding and denying your true self. Hiding and denying your talent and your beauty. You will always feel like a failure. Like a disappointment. Unloved. Unappreciated. (more) You will never be as successful as you could be... should be. You will never be in control of your own actions and your own feelings if you stay.
How long will you imprison yourself? Yes, you! Nobody is doing anything to you but standing by and watching you be your own worst enemy. Seal your own fate. You're doing all the work... as usual.
Look at your hands. They are not bound by locked shackles, but by your own hands holding on to a place that doesn't want you, need you, or love you. And just as it does not want you, you do not want it either. Do not fear freedom. Though it is unknown, it has no other choice but to be better than this.
Look at your hands. Unwrap your fingers. Let go!(less)
It all comes down to trust. Another thing which is easier said than done. Which is why I had to learn it the hard way. When you're hanging out the side of a Cessna 172 with only a thin sliver of fabric tethering you to your comfort zone, thought(more)s of trust tend to dominate your thinking. Especially when your ex-girlfriend is leaning over you, a big shit-eating grin all over her smug face, yelling through the howling wind, "You can do it. Just..."
I know, I know -- let go. It's funny how in a moment like that the desire for escape from a condescending bitch can completely override any concerns of personal safety.
God, I hope she still gives enough of a shit about me to put a little care into packing my parachute.(less)