TALKINGCandid

Things We Don’t Want to Tell Ourselves

Things We Don't Want To Tell Ourselves - Spunkyrella.com

I am okay. I am fine. No, actually, I am not but I also don’t want to hear anyone’s suggestions or opinions. I have always been extremely private even in front of friends and people who are close to me. That’s just how I am. Dealing with things on my own terms, at my own pace.

 

Sometimes, shit hits the fan though. I soldiered on, ticked off all the boxes of my lists. Went on with a smile and with an open ear for other’s problems. When is enough enough? This week, I was in distress. Horrific nightmares let me wake up night after night, I soldiered on. I felt off, I felt like something stuck in my throat not able to swallow it down, or make it vanish. Still, I soldiered on, focused. A friend needs advice. Sure, what can I do for you?

 

I read three books simultaneously and don’t know the plot of one of them. I wouldn’t even be blogging if it wasn’t for the #28DaysOfBlogging challenge, but I am also thankful I decided to participate. It freed me.

 

“People need to tell about their dark days, how should others possibly know that it’s not all sunshine and rainbows?!”

 

It’s right, isn’t it? I know it is. I read it earlier today in Orlando‘s post about the recent bullets he had to take and I decided to not post some kind of roundup, but rather talk real life with you guys.

 

About a month ago a childhood friend of mine died. One day after her 35 birthday. She just found out she was pregnant. She had a little migraine, she said. We surprised her with a little birthday get-together and she trembled and fell and was dead. It was a stroke and there was nothing that could’ve been done, they said. I honestly don’t remember how I even made it since then. I don’t know if the reality of a sudden death hit me so hard? The fact, that she finally was so happy and content after years of being served only bullshit? Or the fact, that I am going to turn 35 as well pretty soon? It just doesn’t make sense. It feels like nothing is worth holding on to. I think that’s part of the things we don’t want to tell ourselves.

 

Last week my grandma died. Sadly, we weren’t very close the last couple of years. Dementia took the best of her and it was gut-wrenching seeing her like this to be honest. My other beloved grandma died a few years ago and now the last one of the family, of that generation. Both had very full lives with nearly 90 and 95 years old. But, still… I don’t know if it’s fair to feel abandoned right now. I even want to roll my eyes on myself and point out how selfish that sounds. But, still… I want to keep myself accountable, I want to stay true to myself and show you the real me. Even if it’s not so pretty at times. If it wouldn’t be for the blogging challenge, I would most likely hide under my blanket and be gone for a while. That’s not how it works though. I know that!

 

This weekend, my meticulously planned house of cards on how to soldier on despite all of it, imploded. There’s no facade, I can keep up anymore. “Fine”, I said, “you win, life!” I didn’t leave my couch all day, despite ordering pizza. And I took all the naps and had lavender tea instead of coffee. I know I will be fine again.

 

But you know what? This is me. This is the imperfect, wounded but not broken, sad and vulnerable side of me and that’s absolutely fine. I am not great right now, but I will be again.

 

 

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