Chapter 4

The crossroad

4 weeks into my sobriety and I have never felt better. I still feel lost, but more so on a journey to self discovery. I am still full of regret, and will never be more sorry to the person I hurt the most, but today I look forward. It is time to stop regretting, time to stop feeling guilty and time to stop worrying about everything that has been, now it is time to take the first step out of the hot ashes, away from the burnt bridge, towards the path ahead. I am still hoping that you will join me, and hold my hand as we move forward from this together. Leaving the hurt and anguish behind us, starting afresh.

I can promise you that none of this will be easy, but for the first time in a long time, I can see a light at the end of this tunnel, I can see the shore from the middle of the sea, I know that the traveller will find her way without the lighthouse, because she has visited hell, been beaten by the devil and still managed to live to tell her story.

Too many tears have fallen, too many lies have been spoken and too many hearts have been broken. I will wait for you to choose your direction, there is a road we can take together or there is one which you can take alone, but please choose carefully, once you decide, there is no turning back, with or without you I will keep walking.

The ocean has calmed and the darkness is fading, there are most definitely better days ahead. I hope that you will be apart of what is still yet to come, but I understand if you choose to walk away. I’m tired of fighting and my hands hurt from clinging to the idea that there could be a chance for us. This weekend is so significant, I am all in, I have everything to gain, but everything to lose, I will accept which ever way the dice rolls and will keep moving forward, with or without you.

I’ll let you know if I win big, or if I lose it all.

Until next time x

 

Chapter 3

Inhale courage, exhale fear

You know who you are,

You took a searing hot needle and stitched my lips tightly shut, each time you pierced my skin, a tear trickled down my face. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t cry out for help, I couldn’t let out even a whimper. I never told a soul about the things I experienced, I did not dare even think about it, I was scared God would hear and punish me more. Each time I would take a shovel and bury the hurt and pain into the darkest aspects of my inner being, pretending that what was on the surface was real. Overtime, I have slowly removed each stitch, with each slither of frayed thread I pluck away, the more confidence I gain to speak out. This is first and foremost, a letter to you, with all the things I left unsaid.

I was afraid. I cowered at the thought of being alone in the dark. Piece by piece you stripped me of my dignity, with each blow, part of me disappeared, fading further into the darkness. My desperation grew and my hope vanished as the light dimmed. Just like an onion, the layers kept peeling back until I was raw. Nothing but red, bloody, beaten flesh.

As you pounded my rib cage with your heavy fist, I closed my eyes and prayed that this was all a bad dream. I often wished that I would fall asleep and not wake up to the nightmare formerly known as my reality. I would feel frail and weak as I opened them only to realise that you were still there. I became numb, a passive medium, broken on the inside. If anyone seen the outside, underneath my clothes, they would have questioned why I stayed. The truth is, I felt like I had no where to go. The bruises were’t just skin deep, they tarnished my soul and diminished my self worth. I prayed endlessly and I questioned God’s existence.

On one occasion, I tried to run. You had me bent over the bed, my arms pinned over my head, I was stark naked. You called me fat, even though you knew I had not eaten in 2 days. Momentarily, you let go of my wrists and I saw my chance. I quickly snapped up and pushed you away, I ran down the hall, bare and vulnerable. You came after me, your thunderous footsteps smacking the tiled floor. I was panicking. My breaths were short and shallow. My heart sank as I came to a dead end… I spun around, you were behind me. You grabbed my wrist and flung me on to the floor, my left shoulder dislocated. I screamed out in agony. Clutching my shoulder, tears now freely flowing down my face and naked body. You looked at me and walked away shaking your head.

That night, after banging my shoulder against a wall to force it back into its place, I drove home. Emotionally shattered and physically broken. I turned off the radio so it was just me and the negative thoughts that flooded my mind. I could end everything here, the suffering, the pain… I caught a glimpse of a large tree up ahead, it was dark and the street was poorly lit. I sped up. I was going 110km/hr in a 60 zone. “This is it…” I thought, the tree was barely 50m away and suddenly happy thoughts and feelings engulfed me, memories played themselves in my mind, I swerved and slammed on the brakes. Not today, not today.

It was only last year that I stepped into a church for the first time in forever. The pastor was talking about how God has great plans for us, I remember sitting there and nearly scoffing out loud. But then as he continued, he said something and I felt as though he was speaking directly to me, as if this is what I had been needing to hear for a very long time, he said, “God isn’t finished yet.” I broke down in tears.

I am still haunted by every last hit. I have the same dream over and over again, where I hope that things will be different, that the next time you say sorry, you will mean it. As I sit here writing this, I am shaking. The pain that I buried for so long, has resurfaced. This time, I will be courageous. I will face my greatest fear. But please know, this will be the last time I ever write about you, you are worth nothing to me. This is your final chapter, in my ongoing story, and guess what, the best is yet to come.

Until next time x

beach1

Chapter 2.5

Without a spark, a lonely ember

My face is wet and my eyes are red. In the last 2 days I have slept maybe 2 hours. My housemate’s have left, there is nothing but me and the sound of my fan spinning and cutting through the dense air. It’s hard to breathe. I can’t decipher what emotion I am feeling, it comes in waves, I feel nothing and then everything all at once. I’ve had too much time to think about everything that has been, everything that could have been and everything that will be. I wonder what there is left to think about, then I hate myself as more thoughts flood my mind.

I’ve never fallen so hard… I want to believe that everything will be okay, but I cannot trust anyone to pick me back up, not even myself. My stomach lurches as I reflect on the memories we have made and the likelihood that there isn’t going to be anymore. I crossed the bridge before burning it down, the embers that remain are still lightly burning, in the hope that an old flame can rekindle. I wonder if I rebuild the bridge, that it will be strong enough for me to cross back to the other side, however the bridge is extremely delicate and there will always be one piece missing. The smallest gust of wind will cause the bridge to crumble. I look to the path in front of me and once more back at the bridge, this time I see you.

You are standing on the remains of the river bank, the bridge no longer between us, neither one of us can cross to see the other without walking across the hot coals. You smile at me, after all this time, you are still here. No party is brave enough to make the first move, I stare longingly at the other side, at everything I have ever wanted and look forward once again at the path ahead… The path ahead is flat and smooth, it appears to have no destination but promises a journey. I turn once more towards you and the remains of the bridge, but you have turned away. I call out to you, but still you don’t turn to face me.

Without thinking I step down into the hot ashes. You hear the crunch of the frail blackened wood and peer over your shoulder, I take another step. The cinders are burning my bare feet, the agony becomes overwhelming, I let out a whimper as I take yet another step closer towards you. You’re still looking away, but I am here, I am trying, I am fighting. I try to steady myself on the hot coals, I stumble and stretch out my arm to break my fall, my hand sizzles as it comes into contact with scorching chunks of charcoal, I scream. I yell out to you, I can’t go any further, for this to work, we have to meet half way and start to build a middle ground.

I’m still stuck in the scorching embers, a fire I personally lit. I am praying that you will give love a chance. I’m not asking you to help me out of the fire pit, I’m asking that you meet me there. It isn’t going to be easy, it never will be easy. I cannot promise you forever, I cannot promise you a year from now, I cannot promise you a month from now or even a week from now, but what I can promise you is today. This was something I said before I burnt down the bridge, but I mean it now more than ever, you just have to take a leap of faith.

My feet are blistered and my heart is heavy. Still hoping you will turn around, still stumbling through the burning ashes, still hoping for a better tomorrow.

“Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”
Hebrews 11:1

Until next time x

waterfall1

Chapter 1.5

Shark infested waters

Cloud cover has been forecast over my life for an indefinite period. The nights seem longer than ever because the sun simply refuses to shine. I question if the sun still exists, if it pity’s me as much as I pity myself. I choose to believe that I will find a flicker of light in these dark times, but it’s like looking for a rain drop in the ocean.

I had an endless amount of sun beaming over me each day that I chose you, it’s radiance made my skin feel warm and my heart feel wholesome, I felt as though I had purpose. But I grew to question, is this all there is? Greed is an insatiable feeling, it consumes you from the inside out until you have possibly everything you ever wanted, except the most important thing that you let slip away as you were on your journey to self fulfilment. 

I pray that I am the caterpillar entering the cocoon, not knowing where she is going, just hoping that one day things will be different. Then eventually she will break free, emerging from her dark confinement more beautiful and stronger than ever before. It is hope that drives us, hope that keeps us here for tomorrow, contrarily, tomorrow cannot come soon enough.

The day I decided to stop choosing you, was the day I started to choose me. Selfish it must sound, but I have never truly been alone, it is something I wanted to experience because I thought that in order to be whole with somebody else, I had to be a whole with myself. I am still struggling to come to terms with the decision I made, hasty it must appear, I cannot tell you if it was the right thing to do, but it is something I needed to do.

I keep revisiting days where I do not wish to invite myself in, the darkest aspects of my inner being. The hurt, the physicality, it all feels so real, even still. I feel so numb and broken, I want to feel something other than self hatred… I never initially chose pain as the alternate feeling, it was cast upon me unwillingly, then it became the only way I could escape from my harsh and cruel reality. I never asked to be hurt the way I was, I never asked to be tortured the way I was, but I still feel like I deserve every second of it. 

I kept clinging to the thought of a better tomorrow, then you appeared. You saved me. Like a beacon of light, shining over the stormy seas, reaching the eyes of a lost traveller, trying to swim her way out of shark infested waters. But I can’t expect you to save me every time I lose sight of the shore, I might drown, I might make it, I’m still swimming against the strong currents, but the hope that one day the light house can turn off its light and the traveller will still be safe is what drives my journey.

I want to believe that everything will be okay, but it’s not now and it probably won’t be for a very long time. It’s time I explore the emotions that are weighing me down, pulling me to the dark depths of the ocean floor. 

Still travelling, still swimming, still searching for a way out of the bitter cold sea. 

“Be strong. Be brave. Be fearless. You are never alone.”

Joshua 1:9

Until next time x

Chapter 1

A short fall from grace

As I sit writing this post, I am wearing a shirt that says “Pretty good with bad decisions”. I admit, I have felt low before, but never quite like this. If there was ever a time that I wanted to drink my body weight in wine, it would be now. However last week I decided to commit to 6 weeks sober… What a silly idea that was…

Have you ever gambled? The excitement and thrill of it is so appealing. You have a win, so you place another bet. You keep winning, so you keep placing bets, each one posing a greater risk than the last. But in the end, you lose it all… Tonight, I lost everything. I hurt someone, someone I love and care for deeply. The saddest part about it, is I have no one to blame but myself.

Michael, if you are reading this, I just want you to know how sorry I am.

The perception that the grass is greener on the other side is extremely misleading. My journey to this supposed grass, was a quick short fall, where with every branch I hit on the way down, I lost another little piece of my dignity. I started this blog to help me understand me. So far, I’m not doing a very good job.

It’s disappointing to think that everyone was fighting for me, except me. The one person I wanted to keep fighting, decided his time in the ring was over, and it was time for him to walk away. The decision between walking away and trying harder is never easy, but there are only so many times you can get knocked down and get back up again.

I wanted to be alone and now I am. It is possibly the scariest thing I can ever imagine. My eyes are burning from all the tears I have cried, the small cuts on my thigh stinging more now than they ever have before, my limbs feel weak and heavy from all the energy I have exhausted, i feel nauseous from all the food I have not eaten and my heart is racing as my mind comes to terms with the fact that this is real. Negative thoughts flood and fill the empty cavity where I reside, I feel lost in a sea of pessimism and fearful that no one will save me from drowning.

I look to the horizon in the hope that you will reach out your hand and rescue me as you always do. I keep looking, but you are no where to be seen. Reality finally sinks in, like an anchor pulling me further into the abyss, you are gone and you’re not coming back. If I want to survive this, I have to swim.

When I find the shore I’ll let you know.
Until next time x.tas1.jpg

 

Prologue

The beginning of new beginnings.

If 22 wasn’t such a good age, Taylor Swift wouldn’t have written a song about it. In this moment, at 22 years of age it seems like the world is at my feet. I am starting this blog to help me understand me. I’ve never felt so empowered, yet so vulnerable.

It’s scary to think that at the end of this year I will be a qualified physiotherapist, my teenage dream about to come true, everything I have worked so hard for over the last four years is about to become a reality. But I don’t feel ready. Not in the slightest. This signifies the end of something and the start of another, the transition to real adult life… Where I have to work 6 days a week to pay off a mortgage on a house that I probably don’t even like, pay off a loan on a car that I won’t be able to resell for half the price I bought it for, start putting money into superannuation (whatever the hell that is), start saving for the holidays I’ll never take and start walking the dog who will pass away before I’m 40.

It scares me to think that I can’t even look after myself on a Saturday night, let alone take on a full patient load as a new grad. Speaking of Saturday nights and Friday nights… And Wednesday Uni nights… And Thirsty Thursdays… Over the last 6 months in particular I have felt that wine and vodka have been my only friends. Even though on many occasions they have both caused projectile expulsion of my stomach contents. I think that maybe I’ll forget about the reality I’ll be faced with in December, the decisions I’ll have to make regarding my career and my relationship. Alcohol allows me to have the night off from thinking, worrying and dwelling and let’s me have a good time with the girls. But much to my dismay, all the things that are bothering me are still there when I wake up in the morning, only they are compounded by a splitting headache, an upset stomach and much confusion as to whether or not I’m still drunk – AKA the classic hangover.

Wednesday night just gone I had a big night… Before leaving the house my housemate and I drank two bottles of wine each and when we arrived at the uni night hotspot “Flamingo’s on Quay” we subjected ourselves to many vodka OJs and shots. We danced to ‘Closer’ by the Chainsmokers and got ‘low’ to Flo Rida in true white girl style, we took drunk club photos that we didn’t remember until we seen them the next day and we stumbled back into the house at 4am on Thursday morning. I slept for 2 hours, before waking up still very intoxicated and needing to go to the toilet. I decided a to have a shower, I just sat there trying to hold down last nights liquor, the water ran over me, and I thought to myself, “Do I really want to wake up feeling like this?” – The answer was no. I felt horrible. In that moment I decided that my partying and binge drinking was taking its toll on my liver and more importantly my bank account… It’s hard enough being a student with a low income, paying rent and buying food, but when unexpected things like your $700 car rego come in the mail and you have no money to pay for it because you just blew nearly $200 on liquid that is potentially going to make a reappearance at any second, you realise something needs to change.

This is where I decided that I was going to pick up my act – a 6 week detox. A cleanse of sorts. I posted a photo to my Instagram declaring what I was going to do and so that my regular partying buddies knew I was serious and this was not just a whim. Of course many people scoffed at the idea, my own family placed bets on how long I would last. At first this disappointed me, but now I am even more determined.

6 weeks sober. Let’s do this!
Until next time xbeach happy