I am alot more stable now with what I consider a much healthier understanding of emotional competency. I have better boundaries and fierce self love. I am much more able to see where I end and another begins and thus I have a much stronger sense of self. I care for myself, and intentionally talk kindly to myself. I feed myself well and honour the moods that show up for me.
But it was not always that way, that's for sure.
I remember days in my soul swamp where I wanted to die. I remember one day with such clarity. I was living in a condo with my sister and on this particular day I was in my room with my dog, Merlot and for whatever reason I totally lost the plot. I was drawing on a poster -- because, creativity helped me -- but something shifted on this day. Maybe it was the fact that I was drawing out my personal garden and I was so fucking far off of having a thriving healthy garden.
My whole life garden was suffocated by weeds that I could not seem to escape from. It was like each time I severed a vine that tightly bound my body, instantly a new one would grow. The faster I cut, the stronger the vines grew, with more speed and more strength bogging me down and leaving me barely gasping for air.
That's how it felt anyway.
I wanted a healthy garden, a healthy life but I was so utterly stuck in a dysfunctional cycle. I was spiralling out of control, losing my grip on sanity and reality and the further I spun the less understood I became and the more isolated this path was.
At this point on my journey I felt utterly alone.
Deeply isolated, tragically misunderstood.
The only time the pain went away was when I went back to him. But each time I left due to the intensity of the drama and the jolting to my soul the darkness got worse. Numbing out didn't help because it was only temporary -- the second the grip of numbing released I was left feeling way worse off than before.
Nothing was working.
I was hurt. I was mad. I was alone and sad and felt immense hopelessness.
I sat looking at my eyes in the mirror, just staring at the blackness of my pupils starting back at me -- I was disgusted with the trap I felt I was in. I was pissed off and disappointed in the lack of strength I thought I had.
I was embarrassed and filled to the brim with shame.
I felt insane.
I literally felt fucking crazy.
This was the night that I flirted much too close for comfort with death.
I was ready on this night.
Today I look in my eyes -- those same bright blue eyes with deep black pupils that I stared into only a short time ago -- and today I cry, but for a different reason than I did in those days.
Today I am so fucking sorry for abandoning myself. I am so sorry that I was not there to comfort my own soul.
I am so sorry for not seeing my own beauty.
And here is where my work on forgiveness begins.
I am sorry I let it all get so bad. I am sorry I numbed out, check out and deserted self. I am sorry for shutting down that 6 year old girl that lives within me, I am sorry for not establishing trust with her or allowing her a space to grieve and feel the immense loss she encountered. I am sorry for constantly going back to a very false version of love -- I am sorry for the drama. I am sorry for the booze and the self harm. I am sorry for the drugs the eating disorders and the constant voice of self-criticism.
I forgive where I was at then, because I simply didn't know. I didn't know how to care for myself. I didn't know that I was entering something so dark. I didn't know that when I closed my heart to love after my aussie romance failed that I would subject myself to something so drastic. I forgive myself for not listening to all of the signs, for all of the forewarning, for all of the lessons that could have saved me from the hell I lived in.
I forgive myself for comparing my life to others and never feeling like a measured up. I forgive myself for disrespecting my body.
I look in my eyes today and I mourn for the woman I was. I weep for the mess she was in. I feel compassion today for her outbursts of anger, her deep feeling of isolation and her hustle to fit in. I hold space for the fact that she did the best she could with what she had -- we all do that. No matter how fucked up we show up, I trust that we are all doing the best we can.
If I could go back in time to the woman I was as I went through the dark night of the soul, I would want to offer her the eyes I offer to the humans I love now, the eyes of unconditional love and non-judgement. I want to tell her that I see the effort that she is putting in, that she is in fact not alone and that her future-self is so fucking proud.
I can see now, as I look into healthier eyes that it was because of her strength that I am here today. It was because of my ability at 6 years old to process a death and find hope that I am here today. I can see now that my self, all fucked up and messed up and disconnected for so many years was in fact a beautifully resilient woman who was chosen to bring me to where I am now.
Perhaps it was the hardened shell that gifted me the ability to make it here. Perhaps it was numbing out that saved my life. Maybe my soul needed time to show up where I am now and open up to love. Perhaps there is nothing to be ashamed about and more to be proud about than I could even fathom right now.
I know for sure, without a single doubt that I look into my eyes today with so much compassion. I am so proud of what my old self went through, I am so proud of her and so thankful -- she saved me.