Writing to stay alive
Last night I completed another session of The Flying Child’s writing group. It was the last of the 6 week ‘course’ and the second time I’ve done this. It is a powerful group of peers supporting each other in their pain. We were asked to write what we’ve discovered over the past 6 weeks about what writing means to us. I realised that if I’m not writing then I’m not living. It is the air I breathe and the only way I can access my soul. It made me think of this blog and how important it is to me. Especially as I inch toward being fully here in my truth.
I still feel nervous that anyone reading this thinks I’m looking for validation, attention, but I’m simply trying to be present in my life. Which is harder than it sounds. This post was going to be about my parts, they have really started to become fully shaped as I understand how we now work together. How little they trust me to keep them safe, how little I trust myself to keep them safe. How far we have to go together to find a life that works for us all and isn’t overwhelmed by what’s happened to us.
Angel, one of my therapists, always tells me if I’m not writing then that’s when she worries. Putting words on a page is my way to express how I feel, to work through what those feelings mean, to give myself a voice. I don’t like my voice. I don’t like talking. I never talk on the telephone. I’m not comfortable telling people how I feel. I can public speak, if I have a script and a role to play that isn’t me. Like parkrun Jo. That’s easy. I can hide behind a facade, fake - no not fake, it is an aspect of me, but it’s not feelings based. I am afraid for people to see how I feel - at least when I’m standing in front of them. That takes trust and I don’t trust myself let alone anyone else.
Recently I had the opportunity to do something rather exciting, but it took me out of my comfort zone. It meant I had to talk, share my feelings, trust myself to process in person. I will reveal all soon enough, but one of the things that emerged for me was that I think it is my responsibility to regulate other people’s emotions. What does that mean? It means I spend all my time overthinking what you’re thinking, working out how to behave so you remain calm, happy, focused - you name it. It doesn’t mean I’m trying not to upset you, if you’re upset it means I’m going to take responsibility for that, to assume I have done something. Yes it can manifest in people pleasing and lack of boundaries. But I’m learning how to start reversing that. One of the best tips has been to prepare responses for things I know may happen. Writing them down, so I have them to hand. But you can’t do that face to face. Which means sometimes I am unprepared for what’s in front of me and because I don’t feel safe to be myself I react, often in ways that are misinterpreted. And then I get upset. Not in front of you, but afterwards and for hours, days, reliving over and over.
Why share this, to be honest I don’t know. I’m never sure where these things will take me. I write, based on what flows out from my hands. Maybe as well if I let some of you read this, those that I know in person will have a better understanding of me and that will make it easier to start being more real. As ultimately that’s what I want. To stop hiding. Stop pretending. Find connection, be able to say ‘hello’ and even sometimes ask for help. Being honest about what we need and how we feel.
Which is why I write here. Why I need to keep going exploring who I am, who my parts are and start trying to live - realising that mistakes aren’t actually mistakes, I am not responsible for everything and everyone, so actually I don’t need to even explain why I’m writing - I just need to keep doing it.
