The last 2 days I’ve taken 2 car fulls of bags of rubbish to the tip.
It’s quite cathartic.
1 run was to dispose of the old sofa I’d thoroughly enjoyed smashing to pieces and the second run today was just for junk that had been accumulating around the house.
Just stuff we no longer needed that was taking up space.
I wish mental health was that easy.
All the stuff that was originally boxed up in there, before the goo started leaking out of its boxes and infecting everything else.
I wish I could just empty the boxes of memories out like a trip to the tip and take the entangled emotions out with it.
How clear my thinking would be.
But instead it seems to sit up there rent free.
Infecting even the good memories.
A memory of a little 7 year old thinking she had to force her fingers down her throat to prove she was ill turned into a 42 year old who thinks the only way people would believe her mental health issues are real is by cutting her arms.
The 15 year old who was so desperate for friends she put herself in a stupid situation which ended up with the unthinkable happening. She’s turned into a grown woman who’s scared to walk down the streets of her home town and is missing her oldests friends’ most important day just in case she might have to face the past.
The anxiety is just too much.
The 31 year old who was denied the opportunity of saying goodbye to the person who had always been there for them. Even if it wasn’t smooth sailing, they were still the one who understood her most and accepted where their priorities had to lie for the sake of their family.
That 31 yr old who just wanted 5 minuets with the phone on speaker placed on the pillow so their words of goodbye could be heard. But that 5 mins was taken and can never be returned. so now at 42 they’ve withdrawn from them all. Stopped talking to people they should hold close so they won’t have any final words to be said.
No relationship means no unfinished business, no unspoken words.
They can’t have their heart broken again.
These initial memories were all boxed up so I could keep on functioning because I had no choice but to keep pushing forwards, but oh how I’d like to have taken out with the trash.
Instead they stay there in my head festering.
If you follow the broken memories you piece together the broken person standing here now.
So my advice to you is deal with these things as they happen.
Don’t let them fester into a toxic substances that courses through your blood.
Don’t let them pollute your mind and destroy your future until you can no longer function.
Even if it does break the peace a little bit at the time just speak your truth when you need to.
You have a right to be heard. And noone has the right to silence you.