Facing My Demons

Well what a Saturday I have had! My daughter is with her dad for the weekend and after feeling ill and sorry for myself for nearly two weeks now, I decided it was time to attack some of my 2017 goals and get them finished. A meeting in the week with my coach probably had something to do with it too!

Firstly I went to collect my daughter's new bike from Santa. Like a robot, I programmed the sat nav with where I needed to go and followed it blindly. Until I started turning into roads I remembered. And when I say remember, I mean in the way you remember a particularly bad nightmare. I was collecting the bike from a house in the same street where my abusive ex boyfriend once lived. And still does as far as I know. I looked over at the house I will forever associate with pain and saw a blue van in the drive. His, not his. I didn't know. I felt sick and at the same time strangely exhilarated. Like looking down at an incredible view when you are afraid of heights. In fact just like that.

Second job on the list was to sort out my daughter's toys. We are moving house early next year and I want to get organised ready. Moving 14 years of life and memories is not an easy task physically or emotionally. So I sorted the toys and then I did 'the cupboard'. The cupboard full of memories that I had just dumped in anything that reminded me of my failed marriage. Photos, cards, notes of affection. It was all in there. And I sorted through it. Reading every word before placing the pieces of paper no one will want a memory of in the recycling. More than a decade of my life equating to little more than recycled mulsh.

Thirdly, as if that wasn't enough, I had an open meeting with an organisation where I had been badly bullied last year. The effect on my mental health at the time caused me to emotionally shut down completely and it has taken me the full 12 months to have enough courage to be in the same room as these people again. The open meeting was because lots of issues have come to light and as a membership organisation they know they need to address them. I was glad I went but the same sick exhilaration coursed through me for the full two hours.

So really it is no wonder my heart is sore today. No wonder I am looking for love and understanding. No wonder I am craving that special person who will bring comfort. But there is no knight. No white horse. There is only me. So I have taken myself out of my house full of memories to a busy coffee shop full of people. And I will sit here until I am strong enough to go home again.

The house I live in now is the first home that wasn't built on sadness and violence. It was my sanctuary. But now it feels like a favourite coat I have outgrown. I don't want to part with it. It has kept me warm on many a cold night. But I must. It is too tight. Too restrictive. It is time to let it go to someone else. Like the coat goes to the charity shop, my home will be someone else's sanctuary. And I will find a new one. And it will feel weird at first. And all I will notice is how the new coat doesn't fit like the old one did. But one day it will fit the new me in a way the old one never could.

And as hard as it is for me right now, I will survive this period of being sanctuary-less. I will keep myself occupied preparing to say goodbye to the old and hello to the new. I feel sick and at the same time strangely exhilarated. Like looking down at an incredible view when I am afraid of heights ...

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