As I was meditating (it wasn’t really meditating it just sounds good to write that…I was more like daydreaming) just now I realised something that I’ve been really aware of the last few weeks…months…maybe even years. Yes, definitely years. It’s my fear of health but it’s also my theory about my health. Like, I just feel like I noticed a core belief and worst case scenario that dance together to haunt me and cause havoc with my anxiety and fear about the future and certainty/confidence with the now…:
W.C.S: “I will always have health struggles throughout my life. I won’t be able to do anything I want to because of my health. Nothing will go to plan. I will be a failure. My life will be a mess. I will turn out like my mum – fucked up, constant health struggles, and a mess.”
C.B: I am not worthy (of health). I am not capable. I am my mother…I am destined for a life like hers. (core beliefs always start with ‘I am’).
Thing is, having constant health struggles fucking knocks your confidence. And I feel like it runs deeper than I give it credit for, or realise, or allow for…allow myself to notice. I can’t imagine anything else. I can’t imagine a healthy life…I hadn’t realised that. I cannot put the picture of ‘me’ within the picture of ‘healthy and happy’. Let alone “healthy and happy and successful and rich and loved and accepted and part of a community.” It’s like it just doesn’t fit. This idea that my life could be like this, that maybe my life will be like this, feels like a total joke…an absurdity. Almost as strong as the sense of ridiculousness I used to feel towards the idea that someone could unconditionally love me…and despite not completely believing that, there’s a part of me that knows it must be true. But even just a year ago, this part of me was so much smaller and felt this belief could only be a fantasy. The idea of unconditional love could not be the truth. It could for everyone else, but it couldn’t for me. But that’s changed and is continuing to change and beginning to get deeper…like, I definitely don’t completely believe that anyone could unconditionally love me, or that act is even possible, but I definitely know that it exists. And so if it exists for others, it exists for me…even if that concept/idea blows my freakin socks off. Part of me believes it.
So maybe, just like the idea or theory of unconditional love not actually being physically possible towards me, despite hearing stories of others and trauma survivors learning how to love/be loved too, maybe the idea that I cannot and will not ever be healthy, and therefore successful and all the rest, can maybe change too. Maybe, just like with the love thing, I can begin to see that if its possible for others, it’s possible for me. If other people have health troubles, have a healing crisis and up and move on. Or they have to constantly look after themselves, and constantly give themselves the love and credit and attention they need but their health does get to a place where they can fucking function. And all this need for love and care that my body has, is healthy. And okay. And something I can learn to love too.
I’m scared if I really notice this belief/fear/theory I feel like I’ll realise just how deeply it’s gone. But then if I don’t truly notice it,give it voice, let it be heard, soothed and healed, I won’t ever get better and feel capable. So basically it’s a fear filled situation. But I feel like the voice has been there for a long while – the negative prediction of health getting in the way of whatever I’m about to do, ending up then ringing true…so it feels like my theory is fucking hard not to believe. But always in ways I wouldn’t have imagined – never in my worst case scenario ways. That’s something.
Basically, there’s a voice inside me that is terrified. And convinced. Terrified and convinced that I am going to be fucked up because of my health, forever. Again, a worst case scenario. It’s also a critic voice though. One that slates and brings up all this proof of all the times before that I’ve failed or have been ill and had to quit or just not started in the first place, or struggled through and fucked myself sideways and felt like absolute shit (which I cannot do anymore…the pushing madly part).
I feel so frustrated. I feel so utterly convinced with all my heart and soul and body that I’m going to be screwed and have health struggles forever, that i can’t see. I can’t see properly. I can’t see all the ways in which this possibly isn’t true. I can’t see the beauty and potential and opportunity that lies within myself. I can’t see the madness in this theory.
I can’t see me. I can only see my mum. It’s a fucker.
What I’m getting at, is that it’s fucking hard when you have constant health struggles to really believe that things are going to be different. To believe that my body will get to a place of health and stability and strength – the place I know it can be and has been and knows how to be. A place where I feel able.
But funnily enough it feels very much like the journey of trauma and learning to trust that my life won’t be as jam packed and as traumatic as it has been before… To learn to know this is possible, is just like the unconditional love thing – the idea that I can live a life where I’m not constantly traumatised and under stress is like someone playing a practical joke. But it’s not as strong as before. It still puzzles me, because I still have these theories. I still feel like my life is different, and destined to be different, to everyone else’s. Because they are them and I am me.
But it doesn’t work like that. When I look at people who are healthy and happy and surrounded by love and not chaos or pain or abuse, I can have that too. It’s not some fairy-tale that’s out of reach for me, just because I’m me.
Just like the idea of my body healing isn’t either. Just because my history has offered me so much proof that this theory could be true, there’s also the mystery and complete unknown that lies ahead too.