There is a ghost that lives inside of me. She is the person I used to be. She is a whole seperate entity from who I actually am right now. She occupied the space of my body for 34 years of my life. I cannot get rid of her, as she still lives here. She is the ghost of me.
Quite often when I am going through the motions of my day to day life, I catch myself getting angry with the air. I find myself muttering complete nonsense under my breath. When approached by anyone in regards to anything the chance that she will come out, up in arms is very great. She is the defender of the new me. She will protect me from ever having to feel like I let myself be taken down. She is the ghost of me.
She knows me better than I know myself. She knows my limitations and will constantly be the reminder of where I was. Where I came from and where I stayed for 34 years. She watches patiently from behind my eyes. She waits. She waits for the most opportune moments to remind me that she’s still there. She is the itch I cannot scratch. She is the tickle in the back of my throat. She is the nervous biting of the spot where my lips meet. She is the nervous licking of the lips. The shake of the leg. The twitch of the body. The biting of the nails. The picking of the face. The coughing when there is nothing there. The rub of the pinky finger against the ring finger. She comes out in all these nervous ticks of mine, because she is the ghost of me.
So many times I have wished her away. I have pleaded and prayed to be released from my past. To let go. To move on. But the universe has something in store for me. The universe needs for me to remember what happened. Where I came from, where I am going. The universe needs to be able to speak to the ghost in me, so that I can help the ghost in you.
Becoming Brave 