I’ve not written anything for ages for various reasons. One is work dragging me down into a pit of paper work and photocopying, another is coming home and being taken over by the age old laziness that I have and another feeling like I have nothing to write of any significance to anyone.
I just finished watching the BBC’s The C-Word drama starring the amazing (and a girl crush of mine) Sheridan Smith. Based on the blog and book of Lisa Lynch’s battle with breast cancer and then a secondary brain cancer, the show brought up a few things with me. I’ve never battled cancer but lost my Grandfather to prostate cancer a few years ago so I can’t sympathise with her struggle with cancer, having never had to do it myself, but I found myself finding a spark ignited in me. Her struggle with dealing with receiving the bullshit news not once but twice and trying to come to terms with being terminally ill made me realise something. She spent her last months trying to stay alive, whereas I have spent my life dipping and weaving into the realms of not wanting to be here. Lisa worries about not enjoying a tree for a tree, breathing in each moment and holding those close to her. I on the other hand force myself to find joy in the little things, breath in and out in pain and push people away from me.
Lisa wrote as a way of coping with the terrible situation she was in, I do the same. I starting this blog to write for myself as an almost form of mindfulness (Lisa used leaves on a river, I use balloons floating away – I’m an IT fan). Writing down all the crap in my head made it easier to cope with each day, it made me feel like I’d glued a piece of myself back onto my structure. On watching the programme and reading her blog I realised I missed writing. It was never a means to be famous and have lots of people comment and like, which has just been an added bonus. Writing gave me structure that was missing in my life, structure that I’ve been missing for years. It also helped me to realise that the things in my head were valid and unlike what I’ve been told I am valid.
I will also force myself to stop pushing people away, from the person who wants to give me a high five, to the person who offers me a compliment on my unique clothing choices and to the friend who badgers me with messages for fear that my cats have eaten me. I’ll learn that not everyone is setting out to hurt me or take the piss out of me. Not everyone is the one person who was a dick to me and one dick should spoil orgy of life (or something along those same crude lines).
So I will try to get into it again, write long love letters to myself where I call myself out on the bullshit I do to myself. It’s fine if no one replies or cares.
All I need to remember is; I am here, I matter and I will learn to love myself.