A Forced Expedition
I ran away to the woods the other day.
I needed a mental health day, so I took one.
I was just going to sit at home, but my love convinced me getting out and into the forest would help.
He was right.
How lucky I am, to have someone hold me so dear, to know me better than I know myself at times.
Last night, some darkness resurfaced in me that I forgot was there. Actions that I can see my abuser in, thoughts and feelings that I am not proud of.
I will not let those behaviors win. Be they learned, inherited, or otherwise. I will not become those who have hurt me.
I will not inflict harm upon others, nor will I fail myself by letting regret and self hatred fester.
We see our mistakes, we learn from them, and most importantly- we move on.
Water is meant to flow.
I refuse to become stagnant.
I refuse to rot.
My verdant heart will flourish, showered with all the things in this life there are to be grateful for.
Do not give up on yourselves, my friends.
We deserve all of the love and patience showed to us and more.
I wrote the above as a caption for a long overdue instagram post that went up yesterday (1/19/2023). Today, I remembered that I wanted to make a point of writing a blog post at least once a month if not more, and work up to treating this space the way I used to treat my instagram and other social media platforms. I feel like it’s more intimate here, more mine. And I can upload more than one photo from a set, in whatever format I choose, without the quality going down. And I can write as much as I like to accompany things.
January is almost over already, how crazy is that? So far this year has been going well. We went to Longwood Gardens, I’m challenging myself to go to an artist meetup tomorrow as both a photographer and a model, and I’ve been practicing with my new camera whenever I can. There has been a lot of chaos, and I’m having trouble keeping up with it all, but I’m also doing rather well at not beating myself up over it (as best I can, anyway. I won’t lie and say it’s easy, or that I’m particularly good at it, but we’re learning).
I won’t go into great detail here, but the last two months of last year were probably the hardest of my life. I’ve never had so many personal tragedies occur at once. It’s been incredibly difficult to adjust to life the way it is now, and will continue to be for the forseeable future. My mother was in the hospital and then received a terminal illness diagnosis, a family friend passed suddenly, then my godmother passed unexpectedly as well. We took in her dog and have been going through the process of acclimating him to our house and animals. The stress levels have been unreal, but we persevere.
The only way out is through, I keep repeating to myself. It helps, most of the time.
Through it all, I’ve been learning a lot about myself, and those close to me. Things that I suppose one can only learn when such circumstances arise. And while I wish none of these things had happened, I’m grateful for all of the knowledge I’ve gained. I know who I can trust, who I can lean on, how some people are most likely to react in similar situations, and perhaps most importantly- how I react. I have surprised myself with my strength these past months, and somehow I know I will continue to do so.
There have been times when I’ve felt broken, but I’ve seemingly become rather adept at sweeping up my own pieces before needing to call on anyone else. Given my childhood circumstances, I suppose it makes sense. I spent a lot of time having to figure things out for myself. Asking for help wasn’t really an option, and even when it was, there was a high chance doing so would be more trouble than it was worth. At least, my less than patient parents would lead little me to think I shouldn’t have asked. And when we’re children, that’s really all we need, isn’t it? To get the impression we’re being a bother. Eventually we learn to not ask for help. In fact, the more I was able to do or figure out on my own, the more I was praised. It’s not exactly a formula that leads to adults who are easily able to ask for assistance when they need it.
Indeed, perhaps the thing I’m most proud of myself for lately is being able to admit that I need help, or can’t always handle certain things. It’s been a more recent development, but it’s happening more often, and I’m glad. I’m proud of myself for honoring my own boundaries and limits where I wouldn’t before.
