Happy New New Year and all that jazz. I’m almost surprised to find myself still writing and posting. 2016 was a year full of hurt which left me feeling like a hazy shadow of myself. The only things that still had substance were emotional pain, anxiety and fear. I couldn’t feel who I was and because of that, there wasn’t a good me to share.
The coming of the new beginning signalled by the changing of the year hasn’t been the joyful opportunity that it normally is for me. It has, however, triggered a look at the inside and outside of myself.
Life is going to be hard. My eldest hasn’t fully recovered from xir breakdown. We both are extremely vigilant for spiralling anxiety and a resurgence of suicidal impulses. I can wish for a quick recovery all I like, but the reality is that this will be a long and hopefully steady climb to stability and independence. I don’t want to say much more about that here, but I may do one day. One thing that is sorely lacking is a safe space for the parent of a young adult with mental health issues to share their fears and pain.
In addition to that, I lost my Dad to cancer. His decline was quite horrific and fast. We did have a precious amount of time to talk. A lot of the hurt that I felt about the way he had responded to me in the past faded away. I almost think this grief would be easier if I was still angry with him. Instead, I have a deep loss. It’s a hollowness that defies words and expresses itself in tears and feelings of desolation and hurt.The lack of words makes it harder for me to process and it makes it hard to express and hard to share. It has given me a new outlook though – more of that in a moment.
One of the side effects of the hollowness inside, is the stripping away of my positivity. I am not quite sure how I managed to produce images for the last few Sinful Sundays. I did know that if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to start again. I have beaten myself up for the fact that my shallowness immediately expressed my negativity in feelings about my body. For the first time ever, I went from disliking my fatness to actual self-loathing and shame. I have never felt shame about my body before so it was a horrible experience and one that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I would have loved to have had a life-size model of me and to have just sliced off the hated chunks with a knife. I am moving on from there but moving beyond the reach of the echoes of those feelings is going to be a challenge.
The thing is, this has been horrible. It’s been truly awful. It has also stripped me right down to basics. Now when I look at my life, my focus is tighter and more targeted. I look at my life and I can only see what has survived the storm. I am loved. I am very rich in love. In fact, I am utterly surrounded by love. My children and I are, and always have been very demonstrative about our love for each other. I am utterly loved by my man – I can’t express how it feels to have no doubts about the veracity of that. It is a wonderful thing. I am loved by friends who still love me even though I have been quiet, negative, prickly and hard to reach. I don’t know what I have done to deserve all that love. In fact, I don’t think any part of it is about whether it is deserved or not. I just think I am very lucky that the people that I love so much, love me back.
I said I was going to come back to the new outlook that I have come to have. My outlook is that having wonderful people to share parts of my life with, whether it is small and occasional slithers, or huge enormous chunks, is a wonderful thing. Things that have happened in the past do sometimes need addressing, but if you are in my present by my choice, then it is because I love making room in my life for you. This includes special friendships that I have made online.
Now I just have to kick my hermit tendencies into touch and get the heck on with enjoying you all. First on the list is sending naughty messages to my man who I adore and then finding some beautiful paper to write a proper, handwritten missive to that woman I love in America.
Watch out 2017. I’ve still got a lot of fight in me and this year has got the makings of being a knock out.
I love the composition of your image – the areola/nipple almost like an eye, giving the impression of a face behind the gloves, which given your words holds perhaps some symbolism
Hoping 2017 is less stressful than 2016
Here’s to a knockout 2017! Good start.
I love the photo, speaks of strength and a refusal to go down easily. And your words, how the echo my own in so many ways.
You are right to celebrate – you are loved
As a 60 something, who has lost both parents (one at 14), I can tell you this too, shall pass. You have a family of love and everything can be rebuilt from there. Here’s to 2017 being a great year for you and yours
You are loved by so many, including me. You are a strong woman, Honey, and where 2016 has been hard for you, 2017 is going to be a knock out indeed!
Rebel xox