Posted in Being Vulnerable

I share because

I don’t want to forget.

I don’t want to forget these moments when I was learning to crawl.

Because that’s what I feel I’m doing.

I’m learning how to love myself with a baby’s progress.

I’m learning how to heal my heart and it takes time.

Days upon days until they turn into years.

And I don’t want to forget this time when I first dived into my own heart.

My own pain.

Because I know myself.

One day, years from now, I’ll think I have it figured out.

I hope that day never comes

But knowing my superior egotistical self, it will.

And I hope someone points me back to here.

-B.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Therapy 18.10

Why do you think he’s with you?

Me listing my reasons…

Silence…

Therapist: You forgot to mention because he loves you.

Me: Laughs awkwardly…and then realizes why…

I have never felt a love like his and am so overwhelmed and in disbelief by it that I try to avoid it.

Who would love me, I think?

A girl with so much baggage.

He would, she says.

He would.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Turning my shit into gold

Last year when covid hit Australia, I was scared.

Very very scared.

I was watching people die in China on these horrible videos and I didn’t know what to make of it.

I was panicking.

Then my dream job came to an end.

Because my company was also panicking.

They needed to show profits.

I get it.

So I lost my job.

And then lockdown hit.

So I was isolated and jobless.

I’m sure you can imagine what kind of thoughts this sensitive, anxious, over thinker had.

It wasn’t good.

I lost my shit.

I became very depressed and anxious.

More than normal.

I was lethargic, moody, challenging random social norms in my head and trying to find my purpose in life.

I was in a shit sandwich.

And you know who pulled me out of it?

Mathis!

My dream father figure reached out to me in one of my darkest times and asked if I wanted to help him in the lumber yard.

He then spoke with me about my childhood trauma I was reliving and told me how one day I would see my shit turn into gold.

I honestly didn’t believe him.

But here I am a year later and I’m actually seeing it.

I’m seeing my self care practices paying off.

I’m seeing my purpose in a whole new light now.

My purpose is to bring awareness to mental ill health through my writing.

And I’m doing that now.

And I’m doing it well.

And I’m proud of myself for the work I’ve put in and the shame I’ve overcome so far.

I’m really proud of myself guys.

Because this brain of mine is hard to live with some days, but it’s worth it.

Because if I save just one life from feeling alone, I know I’ll have fulfilled my purpose.

-B.