It occurred recently that I have an interesting way of dealing with relationship by acts of compartmentalization within my mind. This is done as a defense mechanism where I can separate troublesome aspects of my life and relationships into separate “boxes” or “rooms” where I can keep them isolated and discrete. This has caused me a fair amount of pain and confusion in my life, as keeping everything orderly and manageable, because of the extreme separation involved. It leads one to live multiple lives at once, all of them false and desperate.
For example, if I were cheating on a woman with another woman, I had to come up with a cover story, an entire line of the most deceitful mendacity. And above all that, I cannot believe all the lies I lived! Ways of being that weren’t even true. And yet, they were true because I lived them. Such are the ways of life.
The ways these compartments worked was that I categorized everything in my mind as either “good” or “bad” as it related to my desires being met or frustrated. My motivations and actions were also set in the same way. It was only very recently that I even knew what I was up to, because I didn’t have a valid set of criterion that allowed my to be honest with myself. I didn’t even know such a thing within self existed. Which why the concept of self-honesty was such a tremendous paradigm shift within my consciousness. I could be honest with myself. Who knew?
When I look back at the events in my life, it seems to me like a living, moving wave of rooms that I lived in for a while, each room containing more rooms where I kept parts of myself hidden from others. And myself. Each room spilling into other rooms featuring different version of myself, filled with secrets, thoughts, memories, desires, disappointments, triumphs, projections, shame and glee. I used to believe that they were all valid aspects of myself. Now I see they were nothing but the useless and tattered remains of my projections, secrets and lies distilled in silent separation within the compartments of who I thought I was. I wonder if we all live like this, unaware of the true nature of our selves, leaving an interminable trail of rooms and secrets that follow and cover us like sizeless shadows onto our death. And who knows what happens after that.
I can only relate my deep appreciation that I stumbled across self-honesty and the process of self-perfection. Without these tools, I fear that I would have been consigned to wandering the endless compartments of my mind in confused illusion.