Keeping it real …

me8

No, I won’t smile when I don’t feel like smiling, and I don’t give a fuck if I look like a miserable cow. I can’t pretend to be someone / something I’m not, nor will I. Instead of hiding behind a mask, I drop it and BE the miserable cow I am.

Because I can look at this photo and fall deeper in love with the truth of who I am 💗

Yes, I believe in Otherworldly magic, but I won’t buy into the fairy tale bullshit. If I notice myself building a fantasy castle for the damzel in distress, then I’ll keep digging deeper. To find the strength and courage I need, to slay the inner demons who want to fucking dance.

They want to dance, which is why I’ve been triggered. First it was a FB memory that took me back. To the day I was confronted with the possibility of loosing both of our parents. The day I walked alone on a path between the past and the future. I was in the UK when Dad had been rushed into hospital in a critical condition, and later that night Mam collapsed and was also rushed to hospital. If Serena and James hadn’t been there, then we may have lost Mam then.

I’m grateful for the time we had, yet troubled by some of the experiences we shared. And I can’t seem to shake myself free from those difficult moments that still cause me distress to think about.

Then my troubled mind was thrown even deeper into my feelings, when my hopeful heart felt the sting of rejection. A realization that the opportunity had already passed me by, and the man in question no longer wants to explore our connection. Although I know this to be a sign of what’s not meant to be, I’m beginning to tire of having an empty space beside me. And it’s a space I seem to be noticing more and more.

While waving goodbye to my son and his girlfriend yesterday, I turned around and felt the emptiness of not having someone to turn to.

Although I experience plenty of bliss here in the cabin, there’s still so much solace in my solitude. Something that not only triggers my grief and loss, but also makes me miss the presence of a significant other in my life.

My heart wants to open
My hands wants to be held
My lips want to be kissed
My skin wants to be touched
My body wants to make love

But I’m being encouraged to sit with myself, to BE fully present in the moments and feel life as it IS, no matter how uncomfortable. I’m tired of feeling the heaviness of grief and the weight of bullshit. I want to feel angry because there’s so much more power in my rage, but all I feel is sadness, despair and a whole lot of anxiety.

That’s why I decided to have afew puffs on my pipe last night. I stopped smoking about 5 years ago and have no interest in starting again, but every now and then I have a fancy for weed. So I got myself a little, with plans to use it as part of my meditation when or if the mood struck.

I shouldn’t have had any last night because I hadn’t drank enough water, so my body wasn’t well hydrated. I was on the last day of my cycle afew days after dark moon, so energies were flowing more towards shadow than light.

My heart began to race so fast I thought I was gonna die right there and then, alone in the cabin. I’ve felt this depth of panic before (afew times actually) under different circumstances and for different reasons, but fear always comes with the same sense of dread and panic.

I reached out to my daughter and my sister. Not wanting to worry them, but I was confronting my deepest fear. Afraid of my life coming to a sudden end, and I was terrified of dying alone.

For 3 hours I rode waves of fear that eventually took me back to my wounded 17 year old self, where I relived and felt some intense emotions. As my body temperature dropped, I shook like I had hypothermia. But as each emotion flowed, my heart rate started to slow down. My sister said I was literally shaking off the shit. I’m not so sure because I still feel kinda crap today.

As I began to feel the relief of panic easing, feelings of shame began to flow. Instead of riding the waves alone (as I usually do) I had exposed my weakest and most vulnerable self, to those who love and care about me. Instead of being the Mother and Sister I so desperatly want to be, I was the mighty mess that I am. In some ways I still feel like that lost 17 year old girl, who’s life just never seems to work out as she plans or hopes.

To be honest, it’s not easy to acknowledge or write these words, nor is it easy to read them, but it’s my truth.

Today I’ve been gentle with myself and doing my best to stay present, by focusing on my senses instead of getting lost in my head, or dwelling in my emotions. By saging the cabin (and myself), burning lemon grass candles, holding crystals, sniffing essential oils, bathing in a hot bath of herbal salts, drinking warm tea, filling my belly with yummy food, hugging trees, inhaling lots of fresh forest air, appreciating the beauty of Nature, counting my blessings and writing. All of which helps me to stay present, without distracting me from my truth.

Yesterday was just another example of how rough those waves of grief can get during times of uncertainty. These are waves my sisters and I have been riding for years, but it never seems to gets any easier, even if we are stronger.

I did realize something while in the tub today …

That my anxiety is attached to unexpressed emotion, which is an indicator that I’m thinking as a way of avoiding how I’m truly feeling in the present moment. The biggest obstacle I need to overcome is myself, which is why I sometimes need to sit with myself. It takes courage to acknowledge, own and share my darkest truths. I share my darkness in the hope that you will see beyond, to the light that I truly am ✨

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