Original photo by decay-stock
Rows upon rows of cupboards, each with feelings inside of it. I have to pull things from them every day, like how you go through cupboards when you’re cooking in the kitchen. If any of the cupboards have monsters in them, you’re terrified to open those ones. You try to avoid them. Over time, you hesitate opening any.
I mean, there’s so many of those cupboards with monsters in them, and when you’re moving fast getting things done, it would be really easy to open the wrong one and let the monster out. So you stop opening your cupboards altogether. You stop cooking. Because even if just one of them houses a monster, the whole operation shuts down. Everything is wasted. Everything is hidden away, never to be touched, smelled, or used for any reason. A kitchen full of delicious things, locked away because one cupboard has a monster in it.
It’s not even a dangerous monster. In reality it’s not even a monster at all, but everyone tells you it is. And it might scare you to see it unexpectedly, but all it ever does it jump out. It never even scratches you.
But you stop cooking. You starve yourself for this one monster. You stop inviting people over for dinner. You get afraid of other people’s kitchens, too. Because what if THEY have monsters in them? You become isolated. You see no one. You never eat.
That is repression.