This week it has been cartoon central this end. Hence the quiet time on here. My project of drawing out my internal critical characters has taken itself to another level (more on this soon).
Earlier as I doodled and wrote, out came a letter to my mother. Not to show to her, just to write and say to myself. And you folk on here. It is just the beginning of the millions of things I would LOVE to say to her, but also know I never will and in many other ways I really don’t want to. Anger does not move mountains in this respect. In other respects it can transform and bring with it, proactivity and self-protection. But in this sense, for me, showing my mother my anger will not move any kind of mountain between us. It is so empowering to realise this, and puts the healing process in my hands. All my adult life, until now, I have tried and tried to resolve things between us both in every imaginable way, i.e. involving both me and her in the equation. Now I see it does not quite work like that. For this situation anyway. These last ten months I have stepped away and cut all contact to let myself have this time to heal and express all the things I need to. Just not to her. To others; to myself; to a blank page; to a blank wall; to a tree or to my cat. Anyone but her…thankfully. This is no-one’s fault, it’s just the way it is. And I am glad I know that now, rather than chasing something that was never going to come. But you have to experience this to know this, right?
I wanted to share this chunk of words that just spilled out onto the page because MAN does it feel good to read. I have read it over and over again today and each time feel a strong sense of empowerment and joy when I do. But also heartbreak. Heartbreak in a healing way. Heartbreak for the teen in me that was never heard and suffered in so much sickening silence.
For the first time in 25 years, the suppressed pain and the secret life I always led at home is now in the open. This has continued to blow my mind the last ten months – I keep having moments I need to pinch myself and check it is real: that I am no longer living a life of secret pain, abuse and heartbreak. All this is now here to be healed, and this is where it begins. And where it has begun.
With this healing and this life coming out into the open, comes a shit tonne of pain. But with that comes so much relief words cannot even begin to describe. And this relief is worth all the pain that it takes to get there. Because, in a weird kind of way, to be able to actually feel the pain, despite it hurting like a bitch, is actually a relief in itself. Because all I knew were years of not knowing it was okay to be hurting, and never being given a second to breath and grieve this. Or never to be comforted with the chaos that was constantly unfolding and the neglect and abuse that was constantly being given.
But now it’s different.
Now I see that it is worth every grain of pain to have your story out in the open and amongst those that care.
And now it is time for this:
Suck on that, Mum. The anger is here, and it is OKAY.
How are you, dear readers? It’s been a while!