Life as it is now
A few weeks ago I got a letter from my friend Grace, a beautiful human who I met in Bali on my yoga teacher training. Grace is like wildfire; she taught me that life is better bare foot, that it is okay to cry, and that colourful messy things are crazy beautiful.
In her letter she asked me how I am and if I am still writing the blog I had started in Bali.
To answer the first I wasn’t sure what to put; which is why three weeks later I still haven’t written back. Because so much has changed since we last spoke. And to answer the second, not really, no.
The blog I wrote in Bali was the first time that I had spoken openly about my struggles with mental health. Somehow it was easier there; the whole environment asked that of us; everything was different and slightly uncomfortable. And so writing openly seemed easy. I was surrounded by vulnerability. But then I came home and slowly I sank back into habits and into myself. Hiding, pretending to be fine to everyone except my closest, and trying to offer advice rather than to receive it because I so desperately wanted to be ‘fine’.
And I think that was probably where I was when Grace and I last spoke.
So how am I now?
Well I still scroll on social media too much sometimes. And there are days when all I want is to hide so that maybe the day will be over and I can start again. There are still days when I plan obsessively, what I am going to eat, how I am going to exercise, so that maybe I can get the abs that I’ve been striving for since I started starving myself at 14.
But those days are less now. I am no longer sensitised to pain, because it is no longer a constant. Instead these moments come in short sharp bursts; like a reminder that I don’t want to go back there. Because it is not who I am anymore.
In fact life right now is pretty great. I have my own house. I have a business that allows me to give to other people over and over; to talk and interact and to pass on a gift that was given to me, and for that I feel so blessed. I walk to work every day; it’s beautiful and sunny here right now. I still drink far too much coffee and have an obsession with oats. My body is heavier now than it ever has been, and people tell me often I look ‘well’ - which feels like a little jar of pain every time, like I am mourning who I used to be. But I am also stronger; yesterday I picked my own bodyweight off the floor and handstands are part of my everyday. I have also found my human; the one I always knew was bumping around out there somewhere. He has changed me life, and me.
So I’m doing pretty great. And I wanted you to know. Thank you for helping to remember to look for colour. And for the courage to write my blog again. Even if only you read it.
I filled myself up first, and on my own, and now I am overflowing.
I hope that makes sense to you too.