dawned upon

We don't see things as they are.
We see things as we are."
(Anaïs Nin)

A month ago I wrote this about my friend's party:

It's all shallow chit-chat anyway, often just obligatory due to spatial proximity and not real interest. I hate feeling like I crashed somebody's party when I was invited.

Last night I decided to go to this month's party complete with the eating, the boozing, the music, and the fire pit, and I had a glorious time. The location was the same, but to me it was entirely different.

There are so many issues within my psychological make-up that I have been steadily trying to peel away like old, moldy wallpaper stuck to plaster. It has put me in this odd place of late that has made me feel simultaneously empowered and fragile within my own skin. The guarded, private persona that I've worn as a shield for so long and held at my core is being pried apart by my own volition.

I'm hardly an open book, but I fear what it will make of my creative urges. Over the years I've often thought there's something about self-loathing and depression innately wired into those blessed with artistic abilities and creative proclivities. Might I ultimately cozy up too close to my flaws or carve away one too many scars of unresolved issues at the cost of continued inspiration?