Yesterday's migraine and the hour-long flashback the day before have convinced me that I need to keep writing, even when I don't want to any more. I've had a month of feeling unhinged and lonely. That same month has been a month of starting posts, journal entries, poems - all which got erased or have sat, unfinished. I've been caught up in my own head, caught up with figuring out how I should write instead of simply allowing my words to come out. I've been editing before I begin which has left me silent.
I'm believing lies again. Lies that I don't belong and that my life, my words don't matter. Lies that people cannot accept my brokenness. Lies that I am too much and not enough all at the same time. Lies that I should be farther in my healing and that people are sick of my wrestling with my past. Lies that I need to just "get over it" and move on. Lies that because I'm not a mother or pursuing a career that my choice to focus 100% on healing from the first 22 years of my life isn't valid. Lies that I'm too young and inexperienced to have anything worth saying.
I know they are lies. With many of them, I can trace their tendrils back to the day they took root in my wounded heart. Some of them I thought I had uprooted, only to see them come back in other places, having spread their seeds far and wide. I need for people to speak truth to me and I don't know how to ask. It's risky to put my heart in my hands and offer it to someone else. Hoping that they will speak healing to my brokenness, knowing that they could choose to add more lies, or worse, look away in indifference.
My life right now feels like I'm on a roller coaster, blindfolded. Some days I feel the sun on my face, kissed by just the right strength of breeze and other times the plunging, racing downward never seems to stop. Other times I'm puking over the edge, praying that it doesn't fly back and hit me in the face. Today feels like a puking over the edge kind of day.
For now, this is a big of a risk as I can take. Admitting is always the first step - so I'm standing up and admitting that my head and my heart are full of lies about myself that today I can't silence. I'm admitting that I feel like I'm living life behind a glass window, seeing everyone and unable to join in, to participate and belong. I'm admitting that there has been beautiful moments this week, mixed in with more pain than my heart and body can handle. I'm admitting that I chose judgement of my words over openness, and that in this moment, I'm making a different choice.