I want to scream.
Let’s replace what once was a clap for the NHS for a scream. We all go out and at 20:00 on a Thursday, we just scream until all the energy has left us.
Scream our frustrations out. Scream our anger out. Scream for the situation we shouldn’t still be in. Scream for isolation. Scream for our mental health. Scream for the poor leadership. Scream for the underpaid, overworked, understaffed NHS and frontline workers everywhere. Scream for the parents having to juggle it all. Scream for the sick. Scream for the dead. Scream for the hypocrisy. Scream for the disconnection. Scream for the connection I told myself I didn’t want. Scream for the broken trust.
Seems pretty dramatic doesn’t it but I’m feeling pretty fucking dramatic right now and this list isn’t exhaustive.
This list is exhausting.
Just fucking scream.
For you.
For me.
What the hell has that got to do with consistency? I’m owning and honouring my feelings. My sweat currently smells like cannabis and I need to acknowledge that I’m stressed/anxious and route it out rather than squash it down and ignore it (interesting fact: 11 compounds are found in sweat that are also found in the cannabis plant).
What was super helpful about trying to own my shit in 2020 was that it didn’t matter whether a global pandemic was raging or not. Don’t misunderstand me though, the pandemic intensified everything! How could it not. But, it didn’t have to stop me from doing the work.
Did I want to sack it all off and pretend I hadn’t opened the box? Fuck, yes! Several times over in fact. I still ‘joke’ with my therapist that I’d like to put the lid back on now. Realistically, it’s juts not possible.
2019 was hard and I’m not alone in looking to 2020 as the year for it to get better. In some ways it did but that’s more a perspective (and privilege) thing because 2020 was savage in more ways than one — that we can agree on.
How the fuck could there be positives though? Not looking outwards so much as I don’t think anyone needs me to recap the savagery. For me, I had to learn to be with me without outside distractions. Learn to not take aim at those that didn’t think like me. Understand and accept the differences within people and let them go if it felt toxic. The divisiveness has been incredibly real, upfront, and close to home. I had to bring to the table shit I actively refused to confront so far. Ultimately, I had to own and apologise for my words and behaviours towards others whether they accepted it or not.
It’s been messy, and uncomfortable, and dark, and I’ve learned things about me that are gross (I’m the anxious-avoidant type). It’s been a lot of fucking work. Having to dive into past relationships, to admit my behaviours, my triggers, my whys. It doesn’t put me in the greatest of lights but I cannot change the past, only learn and use that learning moving forwards. Simple words for an uneasy task.
My therapy has been a saving grace throughout it all, and I continue to show up and challenge myself to be honest about my behaviours, work out my wants, work out my boundaries — what is acceptable and what is not in a bid not to betray myself for attention that may never be truly authentic or even come my way.
Should everybody go into therapy? I’m not saying that. What I am saying is that there’s power in speaking aloud what has stayed in your head or untouched some place in the back of your mind for so long. There’s power in understanding why you behave the way you do when you’re triggered, When you’re hurt, when you feel a loss of control, when many relationships appear more transactional. There’s power in weaving a thread through your shit to grow as a person. To be a better person.
I’m nowhere near done. I still won’t cry in front of my therapist so…
But, I’ve also laughed. Laughed so much. Cried with laughter. Laughed most days. If it has to come from a cat video or a Bernie meme, so be it. Laughter isn’t judgemental. Laughter is inclusive because your humour is your own.
NEVER underestimate the power of laughter. The ability to let go of self-consciousness through laughter is incredibly powerful.
I’ve also found consistency. Consistency in working out. Never in my lifetime have I been so consistent. It’s been a saviour. During lockdown 1.0, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 07:30. I’ve worked out in the rain, in the cold (I now get chilblains), the heat. I did start off with taking my measurements and got bored a few months in. I got bored because measurements seemed like it was a thing I ‘should’ do when really, consistency was my challenge.
Consistency is most unsexy as words go. There’s no quick fix in consistency. It’s doing something when you’d rather just not. I’ve had several moments of ‘just not’. When someone asks ‘how did you manage that?’, I showed up…consistently. [Insert eye roll]
So here’s to being consistent in 2021. Consistently owning my shit. Consistently honouring my feelings. Consistently hitting those workouts even when it’s cold and I need to wear eleventy-seven layers to try and stay warm. Consistently letting go and laughing whether it’s friends or some cat video rabbit hole.
Live, love, laugh.
I’m kidding, I hate that strapline.
But, like my pal, Brene Brown, has said, no time or experience is wasted even if you did sit binge watching Netflix. Maybe that’s what you needed or there’s potential in you learning something about yourself someway down the line because of it.
2021.
Stay weird • Get messy • Own it.
