I thought I'd start the new blog with the post that ended the last one, abandoned around 2015. It's a fair reflection of where I find myself sometimes and a bit abstract too I guess? At the end you'll read that I was advised to write something like this by a pal. At the time it helped a bit but I didn't really appreciate it until now. As really, it was a precursor to the (semi) regular journalling I (try) to do now.
So here you go. Not a massively upbeat tale, but a window into the challenges I face and perhaps you or someone you know can relate to the metaphor.
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Ever been in a hole where you can't find the way out? You can see the daylight at the top, you may be able to see the rim, even the walls, but when you try to reach them, they never get closer. It’s not like they get further away either, you just can’t seem to touch them. Same with the rim, it just seems so out of reach.
But the thing is, you can see everything in the outside world, you can even take part in it all. People, places, activities and experiences are all very real, but you’re not really there, you’re still in the hole. The lovely, warm, familiar hole. In this place, you dread those people, places, activities and experiences, but for the sake of your maintaining of some kind of life, you try to stick your head out now and again.
There are some things that make you happy outside, but they don’t last long enough. They have no long term value and you just can’t see the point of investing the time or energy to make them so. You see other people with a plan, a lust to be better and challenge the norm, and this may actually for a second actually inspire you to push harder! But the hole is so very comfortable.
Where you’re in the hole, you don’t need to take part in other peoples version of fun. You don’t have to be the life and soul of the party. You don’t have to prove yourself to other people or cater to whatever version of an ego that may or may not agree with your version of reality or what you should define as success or failure. It’s so much more comfortable to be in the hole.
Only what if when you let yourself loose for these short times that you never actually leave the hole behind, you drag it with you. It changes shape to adapt to your short forays above the rim. It makes you resent yourself for being safe and comfortable, for never fully being present in the world, for carrying dread, doubt, guilt and rage with you. For being selfish to the family and friends you love dearly, for not letting yourself go and seeking help from the people that care or professionals that can help.
They, the ones that can help can never know about the hole, never.
If they did then they would be forced to take note of the hole. To ask you how it feels, what it looks like and how they can start to try and fill it in. They could help you widen the walls and make peeking over the top easier. You could climb out more often and leave the hole behind now and again. Maybe even leave it behind in favour of finding comfort above the rim.
For many years I have carried the hole around with me. Through past experiences, medications and a lifetime of living under its rim.
I’d be lying if I said talking about it always makes me feel better about it. I feel scared, nervous and embarrassed. But I do feel something. I feel like I can eventually take steps to having the people closest to me benefit from a much better version of me. They have not asked it of me, but I know I can give it to them. I just don't know how.
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I was advised to write something like this. Whether it’s right to share it I don’t know? But I’ve known about this for what seems like my whole life and done nothing. I hope that someone else might read it, turn to a loved one like I finally did, then start on whatever journey they may find helps them.
Allan
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