You speak, obviously, but they are not always your words. You take responsibility for them, you must, but still, they are not, organically, yours. Living in a second language requires being comfortable with borrowing and never owning.
Perhaps that is your difficulty. Words are your weapons, they always have been, and using weapons that are not your own is both too intimate and too approximate for your tastes.
You understand now that in order to live in that second language you have had to cross a border. But who saw you come here? Who bore witness to that border crossing in the dark?