I didn’t try to escape you. I didn’t only disappear from the blogosphere. I vanished off the earth in real life too. So much so, that even my friends (and like, they are rather oblivious when it comes to me), started noticing. Or, that could’ve been my one friend who does really see me being back from England for a week and telling all the others that ‘HEYA YOU ALL SHOULD KEEP A BETTER EYE ON HER!’.
Anyway, I am hermiting. Again.
I tend to do this when I feel like shit. I lock myself away from the real world. The big, scary world. With actual people. People who will judge me, or, people who I fear will judge me. Though everyone knows I am my worst critic. And everyone also knows it’s better to get some distraction from friends than to wallow in misery home alone. Yet, every time again, I choose to hermit.
I am not doing well. My second mom, who practices Quantum Touch, ‘healed’ me this Tuesday. She said that usually meant 3-5 days of peace and quiet. The opposite happened, and complete chaos arose the next day, and has been with me for 7 days now. I feel horrible, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I’m a mess.
Some might remember how I chose the word ‘balance’ as my word for 2013. Truthfully though, I decided that that would not be my word within days after that post. However great balance would be, it’s not something to achieve in a year. Balance is what happens in between, in hindsight. It is not a goal to strive for. Plus, very early on, it became clear to me I had to keep a different word close to my heart for the time being. That word was; ‘breathe’.
Now, I hear you all think, isn’t that something we all do naturally, all mother-frickin-day long? Ermmm, yes. But that’s not the breathing I mean. The breathing I mean is the mindful, peaceful and conscious breathing. Not the meditative way in which you try to get to that ‘floating’ stage, away from the earth, but the breathing that brings you back into your body. The breathing that re-connects soul and body again.
Well, breathing has been hard. Really hard.
I feel suffocated. Mostly by myself. Stifled, grasping for air, which only comes in shocks and waves, like when you are crying intensely. Which I do, continuously. I cry and I cry and I cry.
The past month, another word entered my world; Vulnerability.
Oh man, me and vulnerability. We, well, we’re kinda like someone you’ve heard of (a friend of a friend) but have never actually met. And however much your friend likes him, you sorta have this gut feeling you won’t, and thus you shun him. I have ignored vulnerability all my live, as if life my depended on it.
Turns out, it’s the other way around; my life depends on vulnerability.
Oh, the irony of that one.
So vulnerability and me, we’ve been forcefully introduced to one another at this party recently, yet still, I wasn’t feeling it. Fake-smiled my way around him, so I could go back to mingling with the rest of the crowd ASAP. ‘Hi, yes, that’s me. But if you’ll excuse me, I see a friend I haven’t talked to in ages! Maybe I’ll catch you later?’. But vulnerability managed to snatch my number from my friend, and has been on my back ever since. And I could no longer ignore him .
So I have been opening up. Not too much, but bit by bit I am sharing. I have always been Mommasooz, the shoulder, the listening ear. The one to turn to. The one always up for anything, and always ready to drop whatever she’s doing to join you when you please. The one always smiling, always friendly, always ‘alright’. But bit by bit, I am letting my friends know that I am not okay. That, in fact, I am doing crap. That I am in a very painful place, and that I no longer feel like keeping up the act, nor the mask, for that matter.
And unexpectedly, it’s been a relief. It’s been a relief to see they won’t run away when I tell them what is going on, rather than pretending or making excuses to hermit. They’ve accepted helping hands, sent postcards, brought me fresh orange juice. They didn’t mind to change our party plans to couch-potato dates when I told them I couldn’t be the fun girl in a club of confident dressed up people. The little things that lift my spirit, even if it is only for a minute or two. So maybe it is time, now, to pick back up on my ‘breathing’ word again too. Breathe vulnerability. Or vulnerably breathe. But I’ll try to listen first if there will be another word ready to teach me a lesson joining me any time soon. Until that time, vulnerability is still my work in progress.
Do you find certain ‘themes’ or words being of importance to you at specific times in your life?