Drifting.

Drifting.

So… it’s been a while since I’ve logged in here.

So much is coming out to the forefront of my memory that it’s actually not having the positive impact I’d hoped. And instead it’s almost sent me into a tailspin.
I’m not sleeping.
Overeating.
Punishing myself for nothing I’ve done wrong, except in my head it’s all my fault. And I know this is wrong, I truly do. But how do you undo decades of programming?
I’m struggling.

And I feel like I’m being so overwhelmed by some of the memories and things I want desperately to get out and written down…. that I’ve been drowing in emotion which I cannot share with anyone real.
Because no one knows all of my stories.
And I do such a fucking fantastic job of being the person who has their life together.
Who has the perfect family.
The perfect partner.
The excellent business ventures.
Everything going right.
I dress well.
Makeup on point.
Nails amazing.
Hair always done.
Shoes always notable.

Everything I touch, on the outside turns to gold.
On the inside, it’s an empty void with a shadow of a girl floating inside it.

Always looking for something solid to grab hold of… or someone to take hold of her and tell her that it’s going to be okay.

So many times lately I’ve questioned my own existence. My relevance.
Whether anyone would actually notice if I was no longer here and no longer a burden on anyone.
Would their lives in fact be easier without me?

I long for a cliff.
And some days I’ve gone looking for one. The right one.
Because I always imagine standing at the edge. Looking into the sea. And knowing that’s where my darkness will turn into light as the wind rushes past my ears for those few seconds it takes to hit the water. Where everything would go icy cold and still. And there would be nothing but the rush of water in my ears as I close my eyes forever.
And finally I know that my mind and body would be at peace.

I don’t know whether I’d be truly missed.
And that in itself is as painful as any other thought.
I know that the only single thing holding me here right now, is holding my youngest baby in my arms. Because I can tell myself that he might miss me. Because he tells me he loves me every day. He covers me in kisses. Every day. He tells me I’m his favourite and he won’t sleep without me next to him, touching him. Even if it’s only his feet touching me, if I move away, he wakes instantly from deep sleep like he can sense I’m no longer close enough to him.
And sometimes I wonder how he knows it’s what I need?
And I cannot ever tell him.
But he’s my lifeline right now.
It’s all I have,

The cathartic property of writing.

The cathartic property of writing.

I’ve spent the last week or so reliving parts of my life, that for so long have been buried in a deep place inside of me and to be quite frank with you, I just needed a breather.

While I started this blog, for the simple fact that some of my internal musings were driving me crazy, I allowed for the cathartic effect from getting those stories out.
What I didn’t allow for was the mayhem that’s ensuing in my brain right now.
I have this ‘stop the world I wanna get off’ kind of feeling.

There are so many stories in my head.
So much I want to write down.
But only so many hours in the day and I know I cannot devote my entire life to this right now as my normal life is in such complete chaos right now.
I’ve got a lot going on, and it seems so strange that the absolute need for me to start this, hit me when it did. Like I needed another thing on my to-do list? But here we are. Messy, disorganised, chaotic in blog also.
I began with the best intentions of trying to create some kind of timeline, but right now I actually need to press pause. Because I need to figure out which stories are worth sharing, which aren’t. Which affected me, but aren’t interesting enough – or if that is even a thing? Who am I writing this for? Me or readers who barely exist? My 3 fans?
Should I be thinking more of what they would want to read, or more of what I want to share?
Can someone learn something from anything I’m writing or has that point been lost in the blur of dredging up memories which have been silenced so long.

I’m not sleeping well, again.
My stress levels are rising as I try to get a handle on this. It’s feeling a little overwhelming.
For now though, I will try to keep going. I’ll try to push through the what if’s and the niggling voices of self-doubt and maybe.

I may for a while attempt to keep my posts shorter and more direct. Which may be easier given I have literally spilled a large chunk of my life over the internet already!