My first blog
‘Welcome to my blog!
It will be a reflection of my mind. Scattered! Funny bits, insightful bits, deep bits, sometimes sad bits - Ali-isms!
However, I wish to start my first blog with coming out of yet another closet. The closet of self injury. I feel compelled to share this with you all as it’s very visible and confronting. I don’t want to shock and upset any of you when I see you next. (Summer is here & I can no longer cover up to hide my scars).
As most of you know this last year was my worst year ever. I moved home from New Zealand leaving behind a partner who really is the most beautiful, loving, caring & selfless person. I was embarking on the darkest ride of my heart & mind.
I took to cutting the inside of my arms to take away the emotional pain that I was so tired of bearing. I found a quote by Karl Marx that pretty much summed up my drastic actions ‘Physical pain is the only antitode for mental suffering’. I can’t explain why I haven’t found my way out of this funk that I have endured for the last 20 years (it just gradually worse & worse as the years went by).
I can imagine for so many of you reading this that you would just be somewhat frustrated and saying ‘Just get over it & get on with it, Conlon’ – I say this to myself every day. I know I am capable of so much but I am mentally crippled by fear. Fear of failure, fear of being an outcast. I am not living at the moment, I am merely existing.
What I am about to reveal next will anger some of you who have experienced life threatening illnesses. Everyday, I think about death constantly. I just want to escape the pain. I experience two main feelings or emotions or whatever they are called. Tiredness & being scared. Tired of living, yet too scared to do anything to end it. Such strong & trying emotions. yet I still manage to get out of bed, have a shower, ensure I am dressed properly before leaving for work, this comes under HOPE. For as long as I keep doing this, then I know HOPE is by my side.
I only learned this last week. I sat in my therapy session with tears rolling down my cheeks & my chest was so heavy when I was talking about the pain of living. My therapist was explaining that she could see how tiring it must be for me, how heart wrenching some of my writing is but there is something very unique about how I write. Almost at the end of each heartwrenching statement, there is a small bit of writing that offers hope. An example was talking about my life as a dusty, dirty, brown tumbleweed rolling aimlessly through the streets of life. During my tumbling, I gather a beautiful bright pink rose petal that is lying on the street. So as I tumble along aimslessly, I always remember the little beautiful bright pink rose petal that is stuck within me – the petal is hope.
It will be a reflection of my mind. Scattered! Funny bits, insightful bits, deep bits, sometimes sad bits - Ali-isms!
However, I wish to start my first blog with coming out of yet another closet. The closet of self injury. I feel compelled to share this with you all as it’s very visible and confronting. I don’t want to shock and upset any of you when I see you next. (Summer is here & I can no longer cover up to hide my scars).
As most of you know this last year was my worst year ever. I moved home from New Zealand leaving behind a partner who really is the most beautiful, loving, caring & selfless person. I was embarking on the darkest ride of my heart & mind.
I took to cutting the inside of my arms to take away the emotional pain that I was so tired of bearing. I found a quote by Karl Marx that pretty much summed up my drastic actions ‘Physical pain is the only antitode for mental suffering’. I can’t explain why I haven’t found my way out of this funk that I have endured for the last 20 years (it just gradually worse & worse as the years went by).
I can imagine for so many of you reading this that you would just be somewhat frustrated and saying ‘Just get over it & get on with it, Conlon’ – I say this to myself every day. I know I am capable of so much but I am mentally crippled by fear. Fear of failure, fear of being an outcast. I am not living at the moment, I am merely existing.
What I am about to reveal next will anger some of you who have experienced life threatening illnesses. Everyday, I think about death constantly. I just want to escape the pain. I experience two main feelings or emotions or whatever they are called. Tiredness & being scared. Tired of living, yet too scared to do anything to end it. Such strong & trying emotions. yet I still manage to get out of bed, have a shower, ensure I am dressed properly before leaving for work, this comes under HOPE. For as long as I keep doing this, then I know HOPE is by my side.
I only learned this last week. I sat in my therapy session with tears rolling down my cheeks & my chest was so heavy when I was talking about the pain of living. My therapist was explaining that she could see how tiring it must be for me, how heart wrenching some of my writing is but there is something very unique about how I write. Almost at the end of each heartwrenching statement, there is a small bit of writing that offers hope. An example was talking about my life as a dusty, dirty, brown tumbleweed rolling aimlessly through the streets of life. During my tumbling, I gather a beautiful bright pink rose petal that is lying on the street. So as I tumble along aimslessly, I always remember the little beautiful bright pink rose petal that is stuck within me – the petal is hope.
I have the most amazing images inside my head that I would just love to get down on canvas – the problem is, I suck at drawing & painting. It is so frustrating! I will now need to try to convert those images into word.
I don’t know if I will get out of this funk. I am lost. I seriously think I will live out the rest of my years in this troubled state but I still see the little four letter word that keeps me going every day – HOPE.
I believe I had to be someone else all my life, be compliant. Always do what is expected from authority. I actually think I am slightly kooky & I am ready to embrace that.....
An incredibly brave story Alison. I sincerely hope you find solace in getting all these emotions down. Well done. X
ReplyDeleteThat was me, the "unknown", lol.
ReplyDeleteHi Al! It's Pete. There's something else I'd add that's in your writing: life. I've always thought that. You have a lot to give. I know that's hard to remember when you're feeling crap but it's true. Thanks for sharing and for your honesty. xxx
ReplyDeleteHey there dear friend, thank you for sharing. I hope that you will allow your friends and family to be there for you. Two of my sisters suffers from depression and what keep them living is knowing that they have family and friends who will not only share the load but find more pink roses for them to see. x
ReplyDeleteAl- this is beautiful -I love the tumbleweed analogy and I too share some of your displaced feelings and u are so brave to share and write it like u have. Thank u for sharing your journey with me - itsCC here and I can't work how to get rid of the unknown !
ReplyDeleteThank you guys for your amazing comments. I am grateful xxx
ReplyDeleteHey Ali - it takes a lot of courage to share something that is deep, profound and emotional. You have expressed yourself beautifully - this was an art-form. Thou shalt not criticise thyself, there is always a flickering candlelight inside the heart. This artform is your way of healing inside and finding your strength - you have taken the first step and the first stage will be baby-steps. Give yourself time. There is no rush into anything. We all love you for who you are and support you through this difficult time. Thank you beautiful Aliroo!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Alex, for your beautiful words & support xx
ReplyDelete