Touched

I am touched.

My last post was raw. I felt vulnerable. Naked. Aware that my own mother and soul sisters would be finding out an important part of me via blog, as I broadcast the state of my mind via the Internet to total strangers.
And so I was shocked, surprised and amazed by the response. The out-pouring, reaching out of love, the chorus of “me too”s as others came out to me for the first time, or shared that a loved one struggles with the same. I went from feeling alone to embraced by others walking the same path. Suddenly I wasn’t the only mad’un out there with everyone else living their happy, sorted, balanced, sane lives. We were all naked together. Not like some misery-fest of “my path is shitter than yours”, but in a sense of solidarity and mutual seeing.

I felt touched. Physically and emotionally.

Embraced in my nakedness by a circle of loving souls. In what felt like coming out, I felt acceptance where I feared there would be judgement, rejection and shame. 

It has opened dialogue, perhaps not even of words, but of authentic being and acceptance, between me and myself, me and you, and you and me. But please do be aware that it is something I find almost impossible to talk about. That is why I write. That is why I have always written. Anything, and everything important in my life. Because I have a need to communicate, soul to soul, but often struggle face to face. If you met me and started talking periods I would be the one stumbling around with words. But I write books on them. Same goes with this. I don’t intend to have long involved conversations in real life about the current state of my moods. But I am glad of this sacred space, to reflect, share and grow. And I’m so very grateful to have you here with me. Truly.

When I figured out “what was wrong with me” I thought I knew how the road ahead would be. I thought that it redefined me in a bad way. That it invalidated me as the person I was to the world. As though it erased me, dismissed me, made evey part of me merely an untrustworthy symptom. And that was a scary thought.

 But between your insight and my own realisations I can see other ways along this path… Ones which integrate and strengthen everything that I have been cultivating: centredness, mindfulness, community, open communication, self-care, creativity as healing…. Seems like my mission, which I choose to accept, is to dive deeper in to all my practices with this new awareness. To really care for myself with new dedication, greater awareness of these extra cycles (more of this another time). To discover and develop a stronger place of centredness, groundedness, rootedness, to return to, to stay close to. Not because I ought to, which is what I often feel about mindfulness practices, but because I need to. I choose this path over the others available to me. And I am in a good place to choose it, there being no current crisis.

Yesterday, rather than cursing the heavens for this life sentence I gave thanks for the gift, that has broken me down, opened me up, drawn me to genuine intimacy with others, forces me to do self care things that I otherwise wouldn’t, and brings me so much of my creative energy. I still don’t know how to put it into language, not liking either term for it. Not liking either the way of saying that I HAVE BP or I AM BP… I choose not to be defined by or sick from it. But rather see it as an aspect which makes ME up.

So that is where I am. What a big few days it has been. Nothing has changed… And yet everything has. I have had to readjust my self-perception. My sense of what normal is, should look like and what the future may hold, I’ve had to readjust my relationship dynamics with my husband and kids, my self expectation. I’ve recalibrated memories in light of this. I’ve had to introduce this knowledge into friendships. I felt scared, but have passed through this and discovered that I am not alone. But loved and held far more deeply than I ever dared imagine. Loved in my weakness. Loved in my uniqueness.  

Not because of what I do, but who I am. 
And that is one of the profoundest, most precious experiences of my life. An antidote to the inner voices, one that I can call on to counter them when the darkness emerges.
 Thank you, dear souls. X

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