Black Goo and my brain

Imagine if you will a cement room with a big steel door and a spigot coming out of the wall. When I was little there was no door and the tap was on. Lots of Black Goo ran out of the tap. It was all the shit others said about me or what made me feel bad about myself...the shit dad would yell while he slammed me on the floor and dislocated my shoulder. Since then I built a door. Got the tap turned off and sump pumped out the room. When I feel shitty 'bout myself the tap dribbles. Now when people tell me who or how or what I am is bad, it is like they pry the door open and run for the tap. I have to shove them out of my room and close the door. Then I have to muster up the strength to turn off the tap and haul out the sump pump Some people have keys to the door. .. but like the deal with N. and the board of trustees at work...me not being able to tell them that I am trans - cause they will freak.... People I really trust telling me that the board will find a way to fire me if they find out. It opens the door... It makes me think I am that Black Goo. Sometimes I am a zombie doing the bidding of others... opening my own door and starting the tap. It is fear. Lack of self-esteem. Self-loathing. Goo, icky Black Goo seeping into the room. My room. Me.