So tonight I feel like I just realised the power of blogging, a little bit more. I found myself reading a post I wrote a while back about the fear of healing and the fear of feeling healthy. It’s definitely the theme of my current moments, big time, and I then remembered this post I wrote. First off, it makes me realise how we must have these cycles and these running themes along our jlurney that are there until we heal it or figure it out or maybe are just always there – this fear of being well is one of these themes, and it was so healing to realise that this evening, reading this. And the other element of the power of blogging is that basically you’re just writing a fuck load of letters to yourself…love letters, advice letters, reassurance letters, hate letters, angry letters, but all written by you and they’re there for you to tuck into whenever you need to. The pride and admiration, and appreciation of the me back then was overwhelmingly beautiful and huge as I read it. I felt like a child going to their mum for some reassuring words, except the mum was me back in May and the child is me tucked up in bed now, worrying about my life and this fear of being well.
Whenever I’ve dipped back into notes and posts from this blog, I’ve always been astonished with how brilliant, wise, healthy, capable and talented I sound, and am.
That’s pretty beautiful. I need to re-read more often. And for this reason, I’m re-blogging this piece too.
So for a while now there’s been this thing I’ve noticed. It’s the resistance – the fear – of healing. It’s like an internal battle I’ve got going on with myself. And I feel like the deeper I get, the further along the healing ladder I step, the greater the fight becomes. I love ‘parts work’ – the foundations of Gestalt Therapy – and it is something I do myself at home, through the use of cartoons, and dialogue between each part. This is a mega subject and project of mine that I could type on about for hours, and I will someday.
But for now I want to talk about this battle of wellbeing that’s happenin’ inside. The part of me that’s still living in the abuse, still stuck in the memory of the past, still believing it will all be the same now, is the one that is…
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