I can stay hidden

Hidden like the secrets I kept, the ugly truth I never spoke
I can choose to not speak, not share.
Withheld, withholding.
I can cross my arms and hold it all in tight to my heart. Growing cold even when bundled under the thickest coat.

I can stay hidden up in my head, lost in the memories of hurt, rejection, despair and longing to belong. I can unfocus my brain and let the world around me go fuzzy, out of focus. Held back and hidden.
I get lost up there sometimes. Forgetting the whispers of hope woven in and out of those memories.

I feel paralyzed. Hoping that if I only stay still enough, detached and calm enough that whatever it is that is paralyzing my will pass on. So I freeze. Often slowly, but occasionally all at once; freeze my heart, my thoughts, my head and actions. Waiting for the paralysis to pass.

But I'm beginning to realize, that freezing is what ends up causing the most damage. Freezing is what causes me to begin to sink. I confuse being still with freezing. I wallow instead walking on.