The Messy Middle

I am really grateful to everyone who reads and shares this blog, sometimes it feels really indulgent to write here and post on social media but our stories are such an important part of who we are. Connecting with others, with empathy and compassion is definitely helping me learn to better connect with myself. 

There are things I put here that I could never say out loud and in person, but the release from writing, from sharing and hearing from others who resonate, who have their own stories that's why I continue and I do try and not care who reads these, but you know it's hard not to check. 

My last blog I talked a lot about owning your story, I'm right in the middle of this journey. It feels like actually I tell my story a lot - but I don't. Not all of it and never face to face with people. It is too hard, too exposing and I'm terrified of being thought selfish, or over dramatic or worse - a liar. This though is part of that story. The fear of rejection, constantly believing I'm not good enough or worth listening to. Growing up and developing with that message at my core and nothing to challenge it. I recognise it won't change overnight. 

Glennon Doyle likes to share when she is in the messy middle. When it doesn't all quite make sense and we don't know how it will end. Not enough people do this. We get the sanitised post recovery version. The messy middle is hard. It doesn't make sense and the words don't always flow. It's where I am. I've recognised my past, I know what happened and can remember things I couldn't. I've started to tell my story and the wound is open and raw and hurts. It hurts like hell. Some days I can manage that and function, other days I really can't. It explodes like a volcano and I can't cope. 

Then on Tuesday I recognised this was happening and I took a day for me. I was kind and compassionate and I went for a drive to the beach in the sunshine. It worked. I was able to process what was happening. The next day with therapy I could talk it through. And yesterday I went even further, I consciously looked into myself and what was happening. I reached out to some people to share parts of my story. I received love and compassion back. I felt proud and that's rare for me. 

Learning to interpret and understand these different emotions, to accept the memories I have and the trauma is hard. Learning not to project that onto my body and numb with food or booze is hard. Sharing what's going on? That's nearly impossible. I'm not ready for that giant step, only with a select few. But I know it's important, I feel it in my bones. I want others to know that it's okay to tell their truth, whatever that is. To open up and be free. To give ourselves that liberty. Find someone you trust. Find a forum that's safe. Be yourself. You won't feel like your worth that, I don't. But we are. 

A couple of random things too - I've been asked to cover the Mental Health Mates walks in Mote Park as the current walk leader can't make it for a few months. I've set up an instagram account so please do follow us and if you live locally we meet the first sunday of each month at 11.30am. 

Also I mentioned in my last blog about HAVOCA - Help for Adult Victims of Child Abuse. Their forum is amazing. Really really wonderful. Full of people in the messy middle who are kind and vulnerable. I can really recommend it. 

And last - I want to get fitter, not to diet or abuse myself with the hatred I feel for this body - just gently and carefully. So I'm walking in March for the Samaritans. 310000 steps. You can sponsor me here or just donate to them direct. They are a wonderful resource and still support me regularly.