Higher than a Baseline

Subjected to drama
Without my consent,
For so long
It became my way of life,
Too.

So much so
That I created it,
Where none previously existed
Just to feel safe,
In my own skin.

As I age
I analyze this,
What now is its purpose
Except the security,
Arising from misery.

Looking inside
From without,
Life is much easier
More tolerable,
Less noticeable.

Was it the drama
That made me feel alive,
Or just feel
Something higher,
Than a baseline?

Or was it that
On a lively stage of life
I knew where I stood
In quietness, I am confused
No knowing the direction to turn.