Dearest Someone, This is How it is.

Dearest Someone,

This is how it is. Life can be bloody hard – I think I know that, and I think I’m accepting that now. With this post I want to write endlessly without planning it, that way I will not alter things to make them sound less impressive, or less ‘dramatic’ for others.

I’ve noticed lately (though I think I’ve always known) there’s a part of my thought process that switches things around and misses out the most important part of thoughts/feelings when I’m talking to someone about myself. I reckon I’m not the only one who does this – but it has really affected me, and I’m only starting to accept that.

The one thing I’ve learnt recently, despite being told this frequently – it is okay to not be okay. It is okay to cry, feel ashamed and need help – I’ve been trying for far too long to pretend things aren’t as bad as they seem. I’ve also been trying to not let myself tell people who know my situation how I’m really feeling – convincing myself that they don’t actually care or that they will think less of me if I tell them the truth. The crazy thing is that I’ve read endless posts about this, and it’s not until you finally start to accept that this is how things are that you can start to see the beginnings of clarity. 

The past year for me has been intense, I’ve dealt with issues that have shadowed, and been pushed deep down into the pits of my brain for years. Nobody has forced this upon me, granted awful things have happened, but I’ve been the one who has prevented myself from speaking out. I am surrounded by a body of fantastic, incredible, strong people – all of whom I know would be there for me if I asked, and are even there for me when I don’t. It’s just a matter of me accepting this – the harder part I’m finding now that I’ve been receiving help and I’ve received a diagnosis is feeling like a burden.

Despite people being there for constant support I still feel utterly ridiculous when I cannot tell people how things really are. I feel like they don’t actually care, I feel like they’d laugh at me, and I feel like I am being stupid. I reckon we’ve all felt like this at points in our life – but I feel like it daily, and I’ve only recently started to acknowledge this.

Since February of this year I have been receiving medical and therapeutic support on several different levels, today I embarked on another part of this journey and I’m trying, and shall continue trying, to tell people how things actually are. Things still suck, yet things are brilliant, I’m trying not to edit things out when I’m talking, and I’m trying to talk about things that I actually want, and need, to talk about – not what I feel my counsellor, friends or family want me to talk about.

This is how it is. I’m going to be as open and honest as possible; also I want people not to feel sorry for me, I want people to support me.

There’s some song lyrics that have been playing in my head today –

You’ve got the light to fight the shadows so stop hiding it away – damn right Emeli Sande, damn right.

I wrote this post without pausing and taking a breath – so, this really is how it is.

From… a scared / confused / happy person.

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