Hey everyone
I could lie and tell you all that I’ve been so busy I’ve not been able to write but the reality is I deleted 26 drafts from my notes this morning and that’s not even including the ones on my laptop.
My life hasn’t always been linear, throughout the past two years on this blog I’ve thrived and sometimes I’ve barely survived. I’ve been hopeful, and yet heavy with fear and dread.
I made this blog to write my feelings down, and yet doing that has been filling me with so much anxiety. The truth is as much as I want to admit I’ve grown, and accepted, my mental health I’m still massively ashamed of it.
When I began trauma therapy in November I was so hopeful, I wanted to get over my fear of intimacy. My fear of being taken advantage of, and ultimately my fear of losing myself again. The woman I was prior to September 2019, despite her flaws (namely alcoholism), is the woman I want back. I want the confidence, the resilience and the power back. Instead I lost myself even more, therapy took the last of my energy and I struggled to maintain a level head. I was told I was over what happened to me, that the trauma I really need healing from was far deeper than that but I don’t think that’s true.
I’ve been in therapy for a long time, in fact I’ve had so many therapists it’s hard to distinguish whether I actually enjoy therapy or it’s just become my first choice to speaking about my pain. Just because this therapy style, and therapist, didn’t work- doesn’t mean therapy doesn’t work.
I’ve been fairly honest throughout the past two years, and whilst I’d like to keep certain things out of writing I’m sure imagination can run wild. I’m not over my trauma, quite frankly I don’t think I ever will be. But I also don’t want to be, I’m the woman I am today – flaws and all – because of what happened to me. I truly don’t think I’ll ever be over what happened to me.
In the past 4 months I’ve broken, so much has happened and I’m yet to figure out how to handle it. In fact so much has happened I’ve felt like I’m drowning in fear and regret most days, I’ve never been as emotional as I have in the past month and I fear I’ll never go back to who I was (if I even want that).
In March I found out I will struggle but I should be able to have children, after years of shaming myself and blaming myself for my past mistakes I was given news that I honestly never expected to hear. I kept the news silent all day, spreading it around my close family and friends- watching my family and friends cry with me at the news, I’ve come to realise, I wasn’t the only one waiting on. I’ll be making an update post on my PCOS soon, because whilst I’ve made progress I’m still struggling.
April I graduated, from my masters, as I stepped foot back into Carlisle I remembered the loneliness I felt throughout my year there. How much I hated the woman I had been there, how many times I’d reduced myself to tears and how many times I’d broken into harming myself again simply because I was lonely. Carlisle tricked me into thinking I was simply unlikeable and that I was never going to make friends no matter where I restarted my life.
In April a Snapchat memory came up, one I intend on making a separate post about, but it was a year since I sat and told my dad I didn’t want to be alive anymore. That the purpose of my life was simply to help people, and not go any further- I’d finished helping the ones close to me. My friends were all thriving, and I didn’t want to drag them down. I didn’t want them to feel as though they had to downplay how incredible they are simply because I was going nowhere.
So where am I going? I’m 5 months into my PhD and 6 months into a job I love, I have incredible people around me including the most amazing friends in both London and Dundee. I’ve recently realised Dundee feels more like home than London, and whilst I recognise how hard distance has been on both my relationships with friends and family I also am so much more grateful for the time spent with both. I’m travelling, in fact I’m spending half my time packing and unpacking which is SO exciting- I wanted to take a year out when I was younger and travel and whilst I’m nowhere near having the time off it would require I’m still seeing places I’ve dreamt of.
I think I’ll always struggle with grief and loss, more so in the past few months. My way of dealing with things by pushing them far down is proving to be absolutely useless – who would’ve thought it. I’ve come to realize that for me to make the next steps in life, and move forward I will have to deal with my mental pain- even if I’m not especially ready to say goodbye just yet.
Anyway I’ve got so much more I want to say, and I hope that this is the first step in me returning to blogging and sharing my journey to acceptance with you all. As I previously said this isn’t linear, there are days I wake up and I want to end it all and days I wake up and see the depression pit and get to work. I’m a working progress, I always will be.
Thank you for baring with me, and the love on my blog whilst I’ve been away. I’ll see you all soon x
More than a Diagnosis 