I lost my way. I am not sure when it happened exactly, or how long ago. But I lost my way.
I stopped trusting, believing in myself. I started doubting, and wondering if what I was doing was the wrong thing. How on earth did that happen? I worked really hard to find that strength in me, and I am a tad disappointed in myself.
I took stock in the last few weeks, and realised that my self love: the one that says that I will accept me regardless of the number on the tag of my clothes, or the size of the dark circles under my eyes, or the tone of my teens voices, had disappeared. That love that would echo my thoughts, and say: "Of course you know what to do, and if you don't, you'll find out!". Damn it!!!! How could I forget?
I guess sometimes it happens because you get knocked down over and over again, and the last time, you allow it to make you lie down for a while. And then you simply forget you fell over, you just stay there and allow people to walk all over you.
I realised mostly when I was preparing to update my blog, and was thinking about the piece I was going to write. And then I looked at it in my mind, and it sounded whingie. Fuck, when did I get whingie? When on earth did I become a martyr, a "poor me" type? NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! I refuse to be that woman, no matter what the pressure remains for feminine women to appear to need to be rescued. I refuse to stay lying down.
So shit has happened, so life is hard. So what? No one ever said it was meant to be easy, and haven't I always thrived under pressure? When did the anxiety consume me rather than fuel me?
I need to start saying: "Good morning, the sun is shining, and I am alive". And "what will I teach my children today?". Lately, the self talk has been more like: "I cannot teach my children anything else", "I have had my time, I am no longer useful". Since fucking when????????
My message here is, that no matter what, I will always be worthy. So, okay, my relationships have mostly not worked out, my preferred career wasn't to be, and internet dating has mostly sucked, I haven't finished my book, my serial attempts at shrinking my arse have resulted in a tight, but large arse. But the point is: I AM ALIVE, I have people who love me and appreciate me (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, YOU PRECIOUS FEW), I am still useful, I am still learning, I am still writing, I am still going to the gym and watching what I eat, I am still dating, and I am still hoping, and loving, and making my life worthwhile.
Next time I tell myself otherwise, someone please shake me! And my hope is that people genuinely never stop talking about hard stuff, the stuff that really matters. Let's not become a society where these topics are taboo. Life sucks most of the time, let's acknowledge it, let's deal with it. Hug someone, be someone's strength when they are low. I know without those people who continue to be my strength I wouldn't be writing these words today.
Prose, poetry, thoughts by an Adelaide author who happens to also be a GP and sole parent
Thursday, 19 February 2015
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