There are days when the writing’s easy, and days where the words won’t come. Then there are days when the writing comes, but the words won’t leave.
Writing yesterday’s post, Day 26: Fourteen, really took a lot out of me. I’d been thinking about writing about it since I started the series, but I needed time to figure out how to tell that story, and tell it without falling apart. Yesterday felt right and so I went for it, and I think it was some of the most honest writing I’ve ever done. It was something I’d never spoken about before so that made it emotionally and psychologically difficult. But I got through it and the post was published.
But now those words and feelings won’t go away.
Usually when talking about stuff, I’m able to feel, process, write, and let things go. But because I never spoke about this trauma before, it was like reliving it again, which was traumatic. After writing that post yesterday, I was feeling sad the entire day, like really sucky and depressed. I tried making soup. Soup usually makes me feel better. But no luck. Ate chocolate. Still felt crap. Cried a little. Still felt crap.
And then I realised that I was feeling the weight of the relief of finally talking about my abuse.
I’ve said this time and time again, everyone processes and deals differently. And while I do best processing out aloud, thinking, talking and writing about the very intimate details of my personal life daily can become emotionally exhausting.
So, with that in mind, today I’m trying to keep it together by taking a little time to heal. I think that’s important.
Coincidence that I’m heading to a celebration party of sorts today. It just may be the thing to help me let go of the heaviness and renew my powers.
Or at least start feeling less crap.