Last year I wrote “Last year kicked off acknowledging the chaos of the previous years and, well, 2022 just says chaos overlapping chaos. Is that what life is now?”
Apparently the answer to that was yes, yes that is what life will be like moving forward. Strap in!
And my word?
Well, I didn’t even want to write it down. Struggling so much with it that I couldn’t write at all.
Love.
It was less of a commitment to find it and more about being open to the possibility of it. “I honestly don’t know how I’ll show up…” have I achieved the art of possibility?
I’m not sure that I actually have. My parting words facetiously noting a potential podcast. So I did exactly that.
Don’t get me wrong, it took several months of thinking purely about what other people would think before I got over myself. Thus, I Don’t Want to Talk About This was born and ending the year on 16 episodes.
Have I learnt anything? Been challenged by the people I’ve had conversations with?
I definitely have been. I wanted to learn and some people have come along for the ride. Maybe I got a step or two closer to being open to the possibility of love but it has not been found just yet.
But the podcast isn’t part of the big things that happened in 2023…I wish it was. I ended therapy because I felt it had come to a natural end. I was beginning to not know what it was like not to have therapy. I couldn’t be more in gratitude to Jessica for sitting with me sorting through the chaos of my mind. To help me navigate the now while going back in time to sort through the why…woof…she’s worth more than I can ever hope to give. My life has fundamentally shifted to give myself more grace and love and safety.
The big thing?
I got laid off. The universe tiring of nudging me into leaving and kicking me off a cliff instead. While I should have left long before the cliff’s edge, there’s something about the safety of the everyday that it provided even though it was slowly chipping away at my confidence, my creativity, my mental health. And while I spent so much time dealing with the everyday, I never gave much respect to what I wanted to do. Only looking back, can I see why I began to have the feelings that started a slow avalanche to a not so good place. The first glaring indication that I needed to address something was my first session of Kambo.
When I had first heard about Kambo, I knew that it was something I wanted to try — a ceremony involving Rapeh and frog skin secretion. It’s a very physical ceremony and worlds away from my psilocybin experiences. Sam guided us through and I cannot recommend him enough. As with all these things, you set your intentions, what is it that you want to let go of, to work through. Mine was to let go of fear of the ‘what next’ and my first round I really struggled to purge but as soon as it happened, it was free flowing.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the intense amount of resentment I felt later on that evening. A complete spiral that saw me resenting a newborn should you have placed one in front of me. However, from the next day, I didn’t feel fear — it’ll be okay. I was still stuck though, I just hadn’t acknowledged the deeper issue in my psyche yet.
And resentment became a theme over the coming months but I wasn’t willing to address it. My dyslexia kicked off making mistakes all over the place, kicking shit down the road, my ADHD finally joining the party.
Now, in recent times you’ll have seen the increase in people celebrating neurodiversity.
‘You’re part of the cool club’ and let me be clear, never once have I ever been considered part of the cool club. While neurodiversity has been claiming ownership over different ways of thinking and doing…’superpowers’, every superhero has their kryptonite.
Just like a flower must stand in the dark waiting for the sun to rise, there are shadows to our ‘superpowers’
My kryptonite is when my ADHD hyperfocus causes looping. Think of it like an earworm, you can’t get rid of it, you don’t even realise it’s there again in your head until you’re already halfway through the loop. Now exchange the music for a negative story looping over and over again. It doesn’t end there though. The story starts to become more catastrophising and blown out of proportion until you’re convinced that you’ve fucked up so bad there’s no return and you’ve lost things…people very dear to you.
It’s not a nice place to be, which is putting it mildly. Your logical brain knows it’s catastrophising but it’s not strong enough to stop it. Then the other thoughts start to sneak in. Just a little sentence here and there whispering that maybe you don’t want to do this anymore. Maybe you were never meant to be here. Is that why timing has always felt off for me?
I did manage to address the looping and get that under control with some very honest conversations among other actions. The other intrusive thoughts however? They were on a slow burn for a few more months and I wasn’t telling anyone.
It all came to a head when after a workout I sat on the floor staring out with the thought ‘Maybe they were right. Maybe I am the dregs of the egg. Maybe that’s why I seem to come back to this. Maybe that’s why I never seem to be where I want to be. Maybe that’s why I come back to feeling less than. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.’
Because I’m not meant to be here.
I felt confident I’d never act on my thoughts, I still do. Feeling intense guilt at just the thought of passing my pain onto others to deal with. It’s not a black cloud that covers me, it’s honestly guilt and logic on what it would mean to not be here.
One dog walk and accidental confession later and I’m reaching out to my therapist for help. Even as I write this, only six people know what’s been living rent free in my mind for months.
I’m a huge advocate for saying aloud what’s on your mind. For me, it helps me to work it out. Sort through the weeds to gain understanding and action. So then why didn’t I do this? Simply put…I didn’t want to worry people even though those closest to me could clearly see I wasn’t okay. But also, I didn’t want ‘fixer mode’.
I needed time to process before people start bringing in what they feel may help. Fixers come from a good place, I should know, I can be one of them. However, there’s something incredibly powerful in creating a safe space for someone who’s struggling to just breathe. To allow them to say aloud what’s been kept hidden without the pressure of having to take more action than that.
Now having talked about it, what do I understand?
I’m stuck.
I’m a very visual person and when I think about what’s in front of me, it’s a desert. There’s nothing tangible to hold onto.
I don’t know where I’m going. What I’m striving for. What’s my purpose? And in acknowledging that, I understand why resentment continues to rear its ugly head. Because without a path, it’s easier for the words and actions of others to slip past my defences and consume my thinking. To twist my world into one that believes I shouldn’t be here.
We’re halfway through January of 2024, I find myself procrastinating, acknowledging the need to become unstuck but knowing it’s going to take some uncomfortable work.
In order to figure this out, I need to know where I’m at. Can you really set a path to purpose if you don’t even know where you’re currently standing?
Whelp, not thinking about it hasn’t worked for me so far.
How am I going to do it?
Therapy when I can afford it. Cut through the noise. A fuck ton of questions I won’t necessarily be able to answer on the first go. Meditation. Journaling. Walking. Working out. Authentically honest conversations. Reading. Putting learning into practice. And lots of swearing…there’ll always be swearing.
Who knows where this will take me, I have no clue. If you do, answer on a postcard, please.
Ultimately though,
I’m worth sticking around for.
2024
Stay weird • Get messy • Stick around
Forever grateful to my people, I love you.
