Sometimes the hardest thing is to start… You sit, you think, you procrastinate and sometimes even get to a point where you talk yourself out of it… But that’s it.. the most important thing you can do is to start… It doesn’t have to look pretty, it will probably even be messy but it is a start nonetheless… This may not be my best piece of writing (probably filled with mistakes), hell it may not even make sense to anyone else but to me but it is my start….
It has been so long since I have written, well something for here anyway.. It’s not because I haven’t had anything to say (anyone that knows me knows that I usually have something to say). I’m not sure if it was because I didn’t have the words to be able to say it or even if I could find my voice to be able to say it…
Even now my mind is blank, the words are there, the story is there but I can’t seem to weave it altogether.. The words seem blocked and my mind won’t form any sentences even though it is racing at a 100 miles an hour. Maybe it is just time, maybe it is just practice. It could even be that I need to sit in the silence to allow the words to come. I can’t force it, I just have to allow it the space and time for it to come. Maybe I need to write for me first and then it will allow it to come for others… I read back over some of the pieces that I have written years ago and I cannot believe that it is me that has written them. Even though I still feel the burning of the tears streaming down my face as I wrote the words.
It is a little bit like having all the pieces of a puzzle in front of you and the image of what the picture looks like but not being able to piece them all together.
How do you put into words the raw emotion and devastation that comes from diving into the darkest depths of hell from having to face every dark corner of your own mind, body and soul. How do you capture in a sentence the pain, agony and fatigue that you have endured whilst fighting your own demons of your past. A battle that has completely broken every fibre of your body, leaving you lying on the ground sobbing and screaming.
The truth is, you can’t talk about it when you are going through it… When you are sitting in it, living it, breathing it, it feels like you are never going to be able to get out of it… I remember reading something somewhere about there is one day when you wake it and you can breath again. That massive, heavy burden that has been crushing your lungs suddenly feels lighter and I couldn’t believe it at the time.
Until one day, you do wake up and realise that you are there.. It’s not by magic, it is from digging deep, facing your darkest side, feeling and acknowledging your pain throughout every part in your body. It is through doing this that you can learn to release it. Only then can the weight of all that you carried start to ease to allow the breath back into your body.
That day when you can start to look at yourself in the mirror and the reflection staring back is someone you can recognise again and you are proud of. You can genuinely smile at yourself and someone smiles back. There is a sense of peace that flows through you as you finally fully understand the lessons.
I learnt something that can be so obvious to most but so hidden at the same time. In order for me to be here today, writing these words, in this place, I had to go through all the other stuff. I had to break in order to learn that I needed to heal. I had been walking around for years in a haze of self-doubt, shame, guilt without even realising it. I couldn’t feel the weight of all I had been carrying until I learnt how to put some of it down.
I also learnt how important it is to look after not only my friends and family but also myself. To recognise to rest when I am tired, to talk and treat myself with kindness. How to learn from my mistakes but also when to be proud of my successes.
Most importantly I learnt who I am and how to find my voice again.
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