Someone looked at me this week and saw me.
The real me who I try to hide from most people. The real me who I so very often try to hide from myself.
I hardly ever cry and never in front of another human being, but these tears were tears filled with the knowing that someone had seen right through me and was still sat there, wanting and needing to stay with me.
She didn’t know details, she still does not know the specifics of the lifetime of abuse I am working through, the specifics of the mental health problems I have spent a lifetime trying to deal with alone or with the most minimal support that I will allow. She does not know all of the types of abuse that I am battling my way through and trying to heal from. She does not know the timescales or the relationships or the names or the harm that has been done in each story I could tell. But she saw me.
And in turn I could do nothing but open my eyes to everything she was seeing.
I have fought for so long to keep going, to pretend I can do this on my own, to pick up one form of help and then pull back in damaging ways to myself, to keep going in cycles that I am sure will change if I just acknowledge them, all the while feeding into their continuation.
So I saw myself. I saw my need for things to change, I saw my need to get help, real help, in lots of ways from lots of different sources. Because I cannot do this on my own. Nobody could do all of this on their own. And what makes me so different from everybody else?
I took life changing steps this week, made huge decisions that will change my life and help me to live.
And being here again, writing, sharing…this always was a fundemental part of my healing, a fundemental part of who I am, so in seeing myself I am choosing to come back here, to write and to share once again.
Hello me. Hello life.