So the last couple of weeks, something has happened. Something has shifted and changed, or exploded and is out in the open…I’m not sure which. But it is fucking painful. And it involves a shed load of grief.
The phrase ‘trust the process’ is something a friend emailed me last night and since then, I realise that it is something I just so need to hold onto. I get lost in the instability, the inconsistency, the infrequency…I just want it to make sense. I just want it to feel like it makes sense. I just want to know what is happening is safe. I just want to know that the road I am on is safe. I just want to know that I am safe. Something I never knew and never had even a glimpse of knowing that this could be my truth, as a kid. But it is something I am beginning to know now, and the more I get it, the more I want it. The more I learn what it is, the more I want it. The more I hear about it, the more I want it. The more I see it and feel it, the more I want it.
I just fucking want ALL OF IT. And ALL OF ME wants it. Actually no, that’s a lie. Not all of me wants it. A big chunk of me is still very much wounded, and the idea of being and feeling safe is like the most scary thing ever. The LAST thing they want, or need. They need healing. Then safe, can feel safe. It’s my little girl that desperately needs to feel, be, and know she’s safe…that’s why it feels like the whole of me, because she is so mega here at the moment. She feels like the whole of me, but she isn’t. My inner healer is here too, and all the rest, they just seemingly go for a fag break sometimes.
The grief that’s here is monumental, and it is aching. It is breaking. But maybe it is breaking my open. I just don’t actually know how you can feel this much pain and not actually die. Last night I gripped my phone as I lay there, grief stricken and bare. Grief stricken and in agony. It is like nothing I have ever felt before. It is like a trip to hell and back, and then I accidentally get back on the same train and head there again. It’s like I’ve got a multiple return ticket to Pain. But this pain brings me a real predicament. It brings me a real feeling that I am not okay, that I am not loved, that I can’t turn for support.
This pain is so deep that only I can meet it, yet only others is what I crave. When it’s happening and when it’s here, I long long long for someone here, but the minute I pick up my phone to text or perhaps call or read a message of love from time before, I can’t feel it. It is triggering…? Effing triggering. It’s a fucking nightmare. And it makes me feel like I can’t cope with the constant battle inside of needs and of hopes… And when I do try to share, or to lean on someone, or to allow them in and allow myself to feel cared for, the grief only feels even bigger – HUGE in fact. And my symptoms start flooding and I am blinding from within…the grief, and my heart, opens wide swallowing any sense of sanity with it.
It’s a fucking nightmare… but maybe it isn’t…maybe this is healing.
And maybe nobody else can really meet it. Maybe it has to come from myself.