“You’re not the same as you were before,” he said. “You were much more… muchier…
you’ve lost your muchness.”
I have a secret but I cannot share it. It’s not easy having to pick and choose the words to keep hearts safe yet still speak my truth. Just over eighteen months ago I was pushed into a rabbit hole. One day everything was normal, and the next my entire world was upside down and nothing made sense anymore. A year and a half is a long time to be stuck underground and I am still holding onto fistfuls of rubble and dirt. Part of me wants to ferociously sling that mud with abandon and scream it to the world, and part of me wants to bury it so deeply it can’t ever be dug up again. I have to tread gently and I have no idea what I am doing or how to navigate this path authentically.
I still find myself relentlessly googling for that magic answer, even though I know it doesn’t exist. Tears. A lot of tears. Because really I just want what happened to never have happened. How do we un-know, un-see and un-hear? There is no delete button when things of this magnitude blow up life as we know it. The damage ripples down over everything, like molasses spilled in the back of the pantry, getting into places you don’t expect to find it. I have to say, for someone who looks to the past as a hobby, it’s hard to trust in the process of looking forward.
Throughout this time my creative spark felt like it was completely extinguished. I panicked. I’ve lived with that little light inside me forever. Burning. Keeping me breathing. What if it didn’t come back? (It has I think). What if it was lost? (it’s not). I’ve spent countless hours successfully putting on the happy mask, donning the war paint and trudging through the day-to-day. We’ve all been there for some reason right? It really REALLY sucks. And it feels so lonely while you are stuck waist deep in it and unsure how to manoeuvre yourself out (thanks to the wonder of online communities, books, podcasts and the bestest of friends who offer unconditional support and allow me to let some of it out – I know I am not alone on this rollercoaster). My little people have kept me grounded and remind me daily to enjoy the little things. Two little lights in the dark. Practising self-compassion has been key to inching forward, and I am finally gluing the pieces back together and destroying the pieces that no longer fit. I’m going to fill those damn holes with as much muchness as I can muster.
(comments are off for this post but please feel free to contact me privately x)