Overwhelming Thoughts

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Where do i start?? Having just survived the most challenging year of my life, I feel it now maybe time to start unpacking what going on in my head.

The unthinkable happened to my son and I early in 2017, the life we knew was taken away just like that. Somehow, I’ve just had to get through each minute, hour, day, week and month. A year of firsts, every day a new day that i hadn’t lived before. Things i never thought i would have to deal with. Not knowing how to be, how to feel, support my son in his pain. Now the year of first has passed, i feel its time to tackle my thoughts, feelings and fears.

I feel the correct process for me personally, is to write these down and in the months/years to come I want to look back and see how far I’ve come, the ups and uncountable lows. However, every time I sit down and open my new journal/notebook and hold a pen in my hand, out of nowhere all these thoughts flood from my brain to my hand and it starts to shake. The only way i can describe it, is if you had a fountain pen and the ink starts to flood out of the end of it…..that’s what happens to my thoughts which all seem to scream ‘let me OUT of this head’ and they want to spill out over the paper. I then get so overwhelmed and cant cope with the overwhelming thoughts, I start panicking, breathing becomes quick, I get hot and clammy and then i quickly shut the book, put the lid on the pen and then i feel safe. My breathing then slowly returns to normal and i start to feel better.

But am i really safe?? I know those thoughts are still in there….knocking and saying to me ‘we’re still here…..we’ll come and get you eventually’, I then bury them. I feel like I’m putting off the inevitable. Does this mean I just can’t deal with this now? When will I be ready to tackle these? Will I ever be ready to tackle them???

So, I want to heal myself from within and feel this is where I must start but the overwhelming feelings mean I can’t yet…..I’m not saying never – which i suppose is a good thing!

Goodbye

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You tainted my body. Literally in all ways. Through my blood and through my soul.

It was five years ago, when it started. And it’s still haunting me now. For five years I’ve been walking around suppressing emotions and feelings I didn’t even know I had. I could not realise them then, because I did not have time. I had already left you, and home, and everything; I was on plane two days after I knew what you had done to me. Straight to another world where I didn’t have to look back at you, or look deep into me. Avoid it, suppress it, ignore it.

I was stubborn. Too stubborn to admit I was hurt. ‘I am not weak’, ‘I will strive forward’, ‘this will not ruin me’. I can see now that it ruined me. Not listening to my body, mind, soul; that’s what ruined me. I should have listened then, and I should have told someone – anyone – how much I hurt.

Goodbye.

Please Join Me

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Why don’t you see it yet? I told you everything and almost begged you to see it…

You’re still there, still doing it. You left briefly and I hoped you would see it. You’re back now and you’re still there, still doing it.

Why can’t you see it yet? See it. I want you to see it. I want you to join me. Join me in the freedom, the liberation, the confidence, and the meaning.

Why? Why can’t you hear me? I told you what to do, I told you why you should, I didn’t tell you as an instruction – because I know you can’t be told – but I told you in a way which I thought you would see. But you haven’t yet, and I am sad to see you still there.

Come and join me in the happiness, the security, the safety of this world. It’s much more fulfilling, and I can see in your eyes that you want it. Your photos: you don’t look happy. Not genuinely. I can see through that, through you. You even basically told me you’re not happy. And you tried for a bit, to be fair. But that wasn’t enough. Maybe you need more guidance, more support. Maybe you need someone more – more than I am, more than I was. Am I ready? Am I ready to undertake the responsibility of that? I don’t know that I am. I still have my own struggles – logistics – to work through. But god, desperately I want you to join me. You’d be so much happier. I promise you. And I know you want it.

Mr Right

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I think about him all the time. I spiral into thoughts of ‘what if we were together?’. I tease myself for a while until I pull out of my reverie as I know building a fantasy in my head leads to heartache. I knew I liked him a while ago but I had already decided to leave and move home. What’s the point in getting involved with someone before I leave right? I’m not looking for a long-distance relationship. So we stayed friends and I kept my feelings to myself.

I had a great farewell but feel as though I missed an opportunity to say a proper goodbye to him.

Would I be missing him so much if there was someone here for me? If there was someone who caught my eye and occupied my time and attention like my thoughts for him do. If so, would I even think of him again as more than a good friend?

Lost in another daydream I wonder if he feels the same way. Going over previous conversations, messages and interactions I start analysing if I had already started building my fantasy back then. Were some of the moments we had as special for him as they were for me? What if I wasn’t so closed off. What if I had let him in? Where would our friendship be now?

I get a text. It’s him. My heart skips a beat. He mentions he had a soft spot for me. That’s all the confirmation I needed. I wasn’t imagining it. I’m glowing.

Now what? Do I continue to tease myself and go down the road of seeing where it goes in the hope he might move here one day or do I get on with my new life and be open to someone new. Do I want him just because I can’t have him? I’m tired with the questions that roll around in my mind and the pangs in my heart that yearn to be with someone. I wish I had Dumbledore’s pensive to drop my thoughts and emotions into. Hello, feelfivefundred. I release the endless questions, encounters and mind chatter, take a step back and watch them swirl.
There’s been a shift.
I can breathe again.

Days pass and the communication between us stops. I’m actually OK with this and he is obviously getting on with his life, as I am with mine. The obsession has subsided for now. I’m tired of my head games. Why do I make this so hard on myself? Why am I finding falling in love again so hard? Others make it look so easy.

I reflect on my newly discovered identity (my true Self) and realise that I’m better than these head games. I’m beautiful. I’m courageous. I’m confident. I’m creative. I have faith that if I continue to be Myself, I will find love with someone equally as worthy.

I’m here Mr Right. I’m ready.

My Struggle Within

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What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to make you not love me anymore? Why don’t you care? How could you abandon me?

These are the questions that I ask myself all day long, but the truth is I didn’t do anything, you never loved me – not really. I was never good enough for you, I was too independent for your liking. I reminded you too much of yourself and you didn’t like that. And when I started to want a life outside of you and your husband, that was the last straw for you. That’s when you both let the façade fall, so slowly at first that I didn’t notice and then you let it go entirely and we’ve ended up here.

At first, I was lost and confused – and in a way I still am – I couldn’t understand why you abandoned me, what I had done to drive you to make such a decision. I sunk further into the darkness that I had only just begun to dig myself out of.

But then I realised that it wasn’t me. It was all you. You’re the one who can’t get over past events, you’re the one who called me my father’s daughter in an attempt to wound me. But it only stoked the fire of independence burning inside of me.

I began to wonder how dare you do this to me? All I ever did was try to make you happy, my life revolved around you for 16 years. Now I see that was a waste of my time, I should have put my energy to better use. I shouldn’t have this many regrets at this stage in my life, after all, I was only a child back then – I wasn’t to know any better.

For so long I’ve blamed myself, wondered if I could have done something differently to make you stay, wondered what I did wrong, wondered what it was about myself that made you leave. But I’ve come to realise that it’s not me at all, it’s you. It always has been, right from the start.

You’ve systematically tried to separate me from the family, you’ve even turned my own brother against me. But what you don’t realise is that you’ve alienated everyone else in the process. You tried to isolate me and only succeeded in pushing me towards the people who really care about me.

And yeah, I’m lonely and struggling but I won’t let you win – because I’m a survivor.

Irresponsible Avoidance Parenting

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Why did you have us if you weren’t going to care? Was it just so you could become the image? Or did you really want us but you just didn’t know how to split your time? Didn’t know how much effort it would take?

It’s okay for me now, because I have figured out enough on my own. But what about him – he thinks he’s enjoying life but he doesn’t know how much he’s missing. He’s barely even opened the box. You’ve kept him there without even knowing you were, or what you were doing to both of us by not giving us boundaries. Not giving us boundaries meant for me I was always looking for them and for him, he could just carry on with his own self-indulgent existence. You have to ask him, nag him, demand him to take out the trash for one time only and it’s the biggest inconvenience to him and his routinely planned evening. The trash, for fuck’s sake. And you don’t even ask him, I do. Ask him to wash the dishes after dinner and he’ll huff and say he’ll do it when he’s ready. Ask him to wash the bathroom and he’ll say he can’t see dirt, even though the place is ridden with mold; green, black, and white mold. What the fuck? Why do you let him live that way? Why did you let me live that way? I’m not supposed to be the one instructing the rules onto a 40-year-old child.

He has a problem and I told you eight years ago and I thought you listened to me because you nodded your head at me as if you knew I was right and you said ‘yeah, I know, I know’. But you didn’t want to know. You know there’s a problem but you’re avoiding it just like you avoid everything. Avoid deep conversations, that as it turns out could have been beneficial to me when I was too young to recognize that other children were getting maybe more information than I was. I had to figure it out on my own. Alone.

Maybe I’m being too harsh on you. Maybe my memory is playing tricks on me and you were there and you did tell me things, but I’ve just blanked it from my memory. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’m making out. Maybe I am the guilty one. The one who needed you too much, was too fragile and needy that I couldn’t cope without you and you just had too much other stuff to do, so your capacity was all you could give but mine was still too empty; because I was needing too much.

Or maybe you just weren’t there. And now, years later I tell you I’m in counselling for drugs and sleeping around, and you tell me not to be too high maintenance or my new savior boyfriend might grow tired of me.

The Men You Are

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I miss the way you say my name, I miss the way you look at me. I miss the way you touch my arm, I miss the way we smile. I miss the way you make me safe, I miss the way you love. I miss the way it made me feel, and it to feel to me. I miss the way they happened, and I miss the way they’re gone. But most of all, I miss the way I was with you, the way I felt for me.

For me I was contented, in your loving arms. For me I was secured, in your loving arms. For me, I was established, in your loving arms.

For me I was myself, as much as I could be. For here I am again, thanks to you at last. But it’s different this time – for now I have a past. A past you have endured, unfair to you. A past you needn’t know, unfair to you. A past you could have left, as it’s really unfair to you.

The way you make me feel is then, before the past I have. The feelings of before the past, the past you came across. For what is different so, is more than what I was. For what is different so, is who I am because.

The power you have given me, is power once and more. The power you have instilled in me, is fire I adore. The power you have fueled in me, you have no idea. No idea in what you reached in me, deep, deep, in there.

For here we are again once more, but this time – it’s different; you are able, stable, resilient, and kind. You see me, believe me, let me be me, and more. Not like the others, who saw me but couldn’t teach me; fuel me and support me.

The me you have is different, to before the past. The me you have is different, to the past itself. The me you have is me today, the me you have is me today. The me you have is me today, and it is me that is because of you, okay.

Why do I rely so much, on having you to begin? Why do I rely so much, on having you to end? Why do I rely so much, on having you to start? I clearly needed you.

Shelley

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I am so proud of you. You have no idea how stable you have been for me. When I was faltering, you were there and you continued as you were. You didn’t let me influence you, you didn’t let me drag you in. You let me be with you – escape with you. Thank you for that.

Thank you for still being there. Thank you for still trying with me, for still asking how I am.

I’m so proud of where you are, who you are, what you’ve become. You are so strong. You are so constant. Your curiosity and enthusiasm for life is contagious but what’s brilliant is you always stay who you are. I’m so excited to see what you create of your new life, and what you achieve. I know you are on to something great here, because I can see it in your being. You are right to follow your craft, for that is life – life is living – life is too short to not.

So here I am, blanching asparagus, sitting back and reflecting on everything you are, and everything you helped me be. Good luck my friend, and see you again soon.

Losing Friendship

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I’m mad at you for not seeing me. You couldn’t see that I was changing. You couldn’t accept I wanted it, you only blamed someone else. You only saw someone else, you only saw him changing. But you couldn’t see it was me.

We had everything. We were everything. You could tell me things, and I could tell you things. We were everything. But, somewhere we got lost. I outgrew you as you got more lost. I was lost and you held me up. You caught me and knew how not to yell at me for you knew I would retreat. I betrayed you and you still stood by me and waited for me and let me understand for myself why I was broken, instead of convicting me for it. But then you stopped and you yelled at me and accused me. Telling me it would be a long way to fall. I had already fallen, babe. I had already fallen and you were there. You were there to catch me but this time you didn’t, you couldn’t. You couldn’t see that I was changing. I am only going up now and you are not ready to follow. You are not ready to follow because you haven’t fallen. You are lost, but you haven’t fallen. You still have your dignity, your pride, your skin. You still have it.

One day we will be together again, but my time has run out now. My time has run out and I can no longer be loyal to those who are doing nothing. Those who are still lost. And especially those who cannot see me, and who yell at me and tell me what to do. You became that. You became the person who yelled at me and instructed me on how I should behave. You couldn’t see me for what I wanted or how much I wanted change, needed change. I was just existing, just existing in the same old world of nothingness and emptiness. But most importantly you couldn’t see me anymore. You couldn’t tell I was different. Or maybe, maybe you didn’t want to. Or maybe, maybe you couldn’t because you can’t. You don’t get it. You don’t get it because you haven’t fallen and you don’t get it because you just don’t see what I see. I don’t believe that though, because we always use to see the same? So I just don’t know what happened, what changed? Why did you yell at me?

Are you afraid I am changing for him, because of your own past mishaps? What does it matter anyway, if he is helping me better? I am with him and I am changing, but I am not changing for him. I am changing for me, because I need this. I need this so badly for myself. He just happens to be there helping.

I wish you didn’t yell at me for I wanted you to come. But you can’t, not until you’re ready.

Why We Can’t ‘Do Dinner’

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I’m sorry we can’t have dinner. No, it’s nothing you have done. You don’t see what I see anymore. Well, I don’t see what you see. I see clearer now and what I see in that world is nothingness.

We can’t have dinner because I am more disciplined with my time. We can’t have dinner because you do drugs. We can’t have dinner because you were there when I was not me, and you represent everything in that world. We can’t have dinner because you’re leaving – that’s not an excuse to meet up and eat food and talk about how well I’m doing at making a change and how much you’re looking forward to going home. I already know that, so why do we need to meet and confirm it? I know you’re going to ask me about everything too; everyone is asking, wondering, what the hell I am playing at? You’re worried and that’s nice, but don’t be. Worry about yourself. We can’t have dinner because if we did I wouldn’t be changing. You would be sucking me back into the meaningless that I am trying to escape. We can’t have dinner because I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to see the version of you that smiles at me when I arrive and asks me if I had a good day. Those things are normal, I know. But it’s the weight behind it that isn’t. Why don’t you look at me as if I can rely on you, lean on you, be supported by you. It sounds irrational but it’s only reflective of how little you know and can handle. Why can’t you write me an email? Why can’t you tell me you’re hurting because your boyfriend isn’t good enough but you hurt because you wanted him. Why can’t you ask me how counselling is going?

Yes, you asked me for a walk instead. That’s better than dinner, you’re correct. But I still don’t have time. I still don’t have time for you if you can’t tell me something real. Tell me something real, I beg you. I know you’re good inside, I know you are. I know you’re just as sensitive as I am, just as lost as I was, just trying to get by. I know because you helped me get there. You helped me lose myself and at the time it was what I wanted, how I coped, but I can’t do it anymore. Ask me something real so that I can let you back in. I know you’re good and I wish you well. But please see someone. Please see someone so you can understand why you’re doing all these things, and so someday we can be friends again. I love you, but farewell.