Raw materials.

I suddenly realised that I don’t have to feel great in order to write. Nor do I have to be inspired and connected to the higher power. It is ideal of course to create from that place. But this world is far from perfect, and so am I. If anything, I doubt that a truly creative person can feel great at all times; their sensitivity is a double edged sword after all. And for the most part, we don’t live in the society that accommodates those with a deeply feeling nature.

So I am done waiting till I am “fully myself” again; in other words back to a normal functioning adult with balanced emotions. I can write and share when I feel less than, and there is no shame in that. So what if my stories written from a less elevated place won’t inspire as much? This is still me, it is still valid. And if anything, vulnerable words can be therapeutic, both for myself and others.

The words may not flow as effortlessly and breezy , less of a river, more of a gutter. Still they have value, just like the night time is a valuable companion to a day.

Life lately has been stressful to put it mildly. In many ways, with different shades of grey. I know it will pass as it always does, but it is still hard. And frustrating. At times I am full of despair and sadness. I am not even sure anymore that it gets that much easier with time. Still feels like a heavy weight to carry. Once again, I visited some pretty dark places , the abandoned corners of my psyche. Hidden in the basement of my subconscious, not allowed to see any daylight. The memories I’d rather forget, the feelings I’d rather avoid feeling.

But the shadow isn’t going anywhere, it is always with me, waiting patiently to be integrated. Must make friends with her at last. We’ve been together for a long time, yet I like to pretend that we haven’t met. It is like a dysfunctional marriage, where two people lead their separate lives, yet simultaneously are stuck in the same household and cannot separate. Oh how I would hate to be trapped in a situation like that. I couldn’t live this way, and yet it is kinda the dynamic I have with certain parts of myself. Avoid, deny, suppress and distract yourself from the pain of my inner children and adolescents trapped in the dark rooms.

First comes the autopilot, a knee jerk reaction- “I am not them, they belong to someone else”. But this approach is not working; instead of looking the other way, I need to turn towards them. Easier said than done, but at the same time, these days I am less afraid of their big emotions. So perhaps it does get easier with time after all. Maybe I am handling it much better than I thought. My therapist certainly seems to think so. I don’t always believe her of course, as my younger parts that are very active at the moment, tend to only take criticism on board, as that’s literally all they have known.

But the wiser parts of me know that this person’s opinion matters, she is more of an authority on my inner world than the vast majority of others who felt free to comment regarding on who I am and where I am at on my healing journey over the years. “You are still struggling with that?” “You need to let go of your past”, “you need to forgive”, and other cliche statements spoken by people, that are of course ignorant attempts to soothe their own discomfort when faced with the negative emotions of another. Not to mention that it only makes one feel even more shame as a result of hearing them. And shame is very much a frequent visitor in people with complex trauma anyway. We really don’t need more of that.

And while there is a lot that can be said about complex PTSD, its effects on one’s body and mind, and all the various resources that are needed in order to recover from it; there is one relatively simple truth that I feel is the very foundation to keep building upon. The medicine that is needed in this case, is to repeatedly have the exact opposite experience to the ones that occurred during the series of emotional injuries in one’s formative years. To find ways to gift oneself with those resources that were chronically out of reach when one needed them the most; namely love, care, safety, connection, compassion, kindness, attunement, presence; those are the things that have been lacking, not the likes of abuse, neglect, criticism, harsh words, judgement, invalidation, abandonment etc.

And as I remind myself of this simple yet powerful truth , I turn towards my discomfort with more compassion and patience . Easier said than done a lot of the time, hence why it is work in progress.