Monday, 13 February 2017

I'm still standing... just

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CONTENT WARNING - DETAILS OF MULTIPLE TRAUMAS.



My dearest readers.


I feel like I have all but abandoned you recently. I could make an apology that no one would ask for or I could attempt to explain my strifes (as it were). Neither seem particularly plausible/appropriate right now.  In honesty, life is not playing out as I would like it to. It rarely does, granted. However, currently, I'm barely managing to maintain my much needed and well rehearsed facade. At what point is it ok to let go of the life ring?  Not to die as such but to be so far out of your depth that you just want to stop swimming and see if the current takes you to the shore.


I've lost my writing mojo of late. Nothing inspires me to write any more. Picking up a pen used to give me such pleasure. Often I had no idea what I would write but I would pick up a pen and just go with it. Creatively, I've had writer's block for such a long time now that I'm slowly accepting that I will never actually finish that novel I started. I'll never again write poetry or prose. I'll no longer write just for fun.


Sometimes, as a writer, I feel that I have to live up to expectations. People see your work and expect certain things of you. Sometimes, I don't mind this. Writing was always my greatest love and now it appears to be my nemesis! I don't value my writing much. I suppose that's why I never tried to make a career of it. However, I know that I have a skill when it comes to words. 


When I first started out with this blog, it was more of a way for me to let off steam, get things out of my head and try to make sense of them. Through some sort of "divine intervention" my blog became helpful to people. They could easily see themselves in the words. They felt a certain kinship with me. I was cool with that I suppose. However, when the pressure starts to build, the pleasure fall away. People want something from you, you have deadlines imposed upon you and suddenly that pen in your hand weighs a ton. Your computer screen glares at you expectantly. You know people are waiting to read what you have written but you just can't manage it. 


At which point is it ok to stop living up to people's expectations? When is it acceptable to show your flaws to those who believe you are strong?


Hero worship is such a difficult concept for me to grasp. You may look up to people for absolutely anything but so many fail to realise that there are so many facets to any and all human beings. Behind that genius there may be a dyslexic who struggles to communicate. Behind that beautiful, enigmatic showgirl, there may be a woman always trying to prove her worth. Behind that person you always seek out for help there may be a broken individual.

I love to inspire but how can we limit the personal cost?? One of my biggest fears in life is letting people down but I let myself down constantly.




I know that I have strength. I know that I have been through a lot and come out the other side. Am I unscathed? No, not even slightly but I'm still here. That's strength right? Maybe.


Lately I don't feel strong at all. The facade I worked years to build is showing cracks, it's slipping and I can't seem to stop it. 


At which point is enough enough?


I've had a rough life you know. Who hasn't? I'm a council estate kid born into "western poverty"... never heard... weirdly (still weird and unexplainable) superior in intellect and physically beaten all through school because of it... survivor of three different kinds of rape over the course of 17 years (not constant but the first was 19 years ago and the last two years ago) I think, maths brain is not working right now... witness in a murder investigation as a young teen... saw my mum overdose and had to put her safely to bed and monitor her breathing at 8... addiction issues... social issues... self harmer since 2... miscarriage through violence at 17... mental health diagnoses... back and forth with therapy/meds et al...
High functioning all of the above which means people don't believe, don't care... whatever... It's a self preservation tactic (thanks evolution) and no doubt a little to do with my level of intellect... (thanks brain?!) and also too much self awareness to allow any of this to show (thanks society).
An abridged version of events if you will. Yeah, terrible blah blah... no one has ever been held to account for their actions against me. I have my own reasons for this.
And then there's the physical stuff... shin splints that never healed from the army... Fibromyalgia...hypermobility syndrome... every day my body screams in pain but I push through... because that's what I do... thats what everyone expects of me. My relationship is a mess and I don't know how to fix it... woe is me kind of thing...

But the thing is, I don't want to be strong any more. I don't want to be a survivor. I don't want to have to smile and be brave. I'm tired of being kind, nice, generous, loving etc. I can't do it any more. I don't want to have to filter my thoughts because I'm so intense. I don't want to have to dumb myself down because people can't handle my intellect. I don't know who I am any more.

It's like no matter what I do I'll always be the ugly one (with 5 beautiful sisters) The weird one (because calling me weird was easier than trying to learn from me or engage with me) The cocky one (because making a better life for myself should only be a faraway dream) The Paki/Chink (having neither Pakistani nor Chinese heritage as far as I'm aware. I'll always be the Stig of The Dump - thanks Clive King (because I much preferred to get my stuff from charity shops knowing all too well that pained look on my mums face when uniform season came around) I'll be what they call a spinster (because lets face it, who wants to commit to all of the above forever?!) I guess they're right when they say shit sticks!
My smile is false more often than not. My demeanor is a very well rehearsed act. I do genuinely care for people, I can't actually stop that and I never ever want to truth be told but it's exhausting me mentally and physically.

Who will be there when I stop swimming? Anyone? I doubt that. The thing is, when the small issues arise, I'll put them to one side and think "I'll deal with that later". Later never comes. When life is "good", I don't want to deal with the negative stuff. I want to stay in the moment. Ride those waves. Yet the negative stuff continues. Reaching out at this point seems silly because it's not "that bad". As the negative pile increases and starts demanding my attention, the weight of it all starts to take it's toll on me. It overwhelms me. I want to reach out but I can't get things into an order in my head. I can't find the words to express my needs.


And then the pile falls. It lands squarely on my head and knocks me for 6. By this point, it's too late to ask for help and what do you say when the strong one needs assistance? The one everyone else turns to needs someone to turn to. Even if I managed somehow to reach out, no one wants to deal with THAT MUCH shit. It's true. People say they're there for you no matter what but when one issue becomes an hour long rant about how desperately alone you feel all the time, about how you go to sleep wishing you won't wake up, about how everything is so fucked up you don't even know where to begin with fixing things. Your boat has sprung a leak and ever time you fill one hole, 6 more appear in it's place!

I don't know what the point of this post is really. I don't need sympathy or hand holding or anything. The mask is just too heavy. I just want to know that CAN fall apart. I want to go off the deep end you know?







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