Hello and thank you for taking the time to look at what I can only describe as my ramblings. Words straight from my head and my heart. Do they make sense? I'm not sure anything does any more.
After many years of writing my feelings, thoughts and bad poetry in books, scraps of paper and my phone (that no one has ever seen and most have been destroyed), I've decided to have a go at writing for others to read. Maybe it will help me. Maybe it will help someone else.
This is a huge step for me as I've always kept a lot of my 'true' feelings hidden from public view, possibly as I fear what others may think, fear it may hurt others feelings, but I have learnt this is detrimental to my own health and can leave me feeling very alone in a big scary world. Yet I still do it. Until today!
I'm not quite brave enough yet to put a picture up or give my name. Maybe one-day. Baby steps.
I consider myself a 'normal' woman (whatever normal is). I'm mid forties, widowed, hard-working and a mum to two amazing humans who blow me away with their courage and determination. I wish I had half of what they have. I'm nothing special. I have no talents, I am never going to change the world, I am just me!
In the past I've suffered from depression and anxiety and again I'm finding life very tough as I know many others are in what can only be described as a year like no other. Over the years I've mastered the act of hiding how I feel. I put a smiley happy mask on and the world thinks I'm OK. A confident, strong woman who's faced life's battles and come through it. If only they knew the truth!
I'm hoping that by writing this it will help me find a way through these dark times. I've had some very dark thoughts recently and I'm struggling to see a light at the end of a very long tunnel but I've been there before and survived. Surely I can do this again?
So where do I begin? Well the start is usually a good place. For the first 13 years of my life I was pretty happy. Yes I got bullied at school for being abnormally tall, wearing glasses, having freckles but who wasn't? But maybe this set my path for the 7 years that followed. I still can't answer why I allowed those 7 years to happen but I did. The only plausible reason I can find is that I was just a kid. A kid with hopes and dreams. A kid who looked at the world as a romantic with an idealized view of reality, who saw the good in everything and everyone.
I had a huge amount knocked out of me back then, both physically and emotionally but I survived. I've scars, some visible but most were hidden away. Locked up. (Not forgotten, just hidden, not thought about. Kept as a reminder. A warning). That was until recently. Now they are as raw as they were over 20 years ago. I can't see these ones. They are the ones that hurt the most. The ones that make me question myself and everyone else every day.
The kid may have grown up. Replacing a romantic idealized view of reality with a hopeful realistic optimism which in the past few months has been taken away. Today I feel empty, numb. Trying to make sense of the past year. Trying to understand what the hell has happened. So many questions. Questions I know I will never get answers for.
So what now? What does the future hold for me? I can't answer that I just need to get through today. What do I want? I want to get to a place where I can hope. Hope to live not exist. Hope to laugh not cry. Hope to move out from the dark fog that's blocked out my light. Hope that life returns to some semblance of 'normal' for all. Hope that once again I will find the courage and strength to move forward. To learn, to live, to love.