Friday, 24 September 2010

The Beauty in Sadness

That might sound like an odd statement. There doesn't seem to be a lot of beauty in sadness or grieving. It can be one of the most despondent places in the world. But, let me explain what beauty in sadness means for me.

It seems that I have done things backwards when it comes to falling apart. When one usually falls apart, it begins with a sadness, and then as external pressures mount, deepens into depression, and if not put right- can lead to a full breakdown. I had my breakdown first. A series of mental illnesses, exhaustion and sickness- a completely dark place where there was no end to the feelings- no reprieve, no let up. And, at the time, only a subconscious will (not conscious, at the time I couldn't have cared any less about living) to get through it.
Over time, each time that I have been triggered, upset, grieved, worked through another pain that has been held in my heart, in my psyche for so long- it's gotten easier. Today, I sobbed. I'm grieving. I'm in a little bit of despair, a little bit of needing. I know now what my deepest wants are. I need to move and forge ahead with my own life. I need to get myself through college, get all my training, get myself a trainee job and work my ass off until, in two years time (I'll be almost 29 when the qualifications come through and I can pass for BACP membership) I have my practice. I'll have to get a little place, probably a flat for me and Davey until then, but hopefully I'll be able to pay bills and put some away so that when I start out on my own, give myself a year or two of five days a week sessions, hopefully will have enough to put a down payment on a little place somewhere nice and quiet, no real close neighbours, in the country, and a little bit of land where I can have my veggie patch. And then I can start the ball rolling because I want to adopt my little girl. I want to be a mum. First and foremost, my heart feels that, wants that. I yearn for it.
I'd hope one day for a loving partner, someone who is fit to be a father to my child, but it's secondary. I feel inside, a strength. Like, I know I can do this on my own. Those are my dreams. Those are the griefs that I am carrying with me right now, and that might sound odd- griefs- because they are beautiful things, hearts desires- but they are griefs because firstly, they are just a form in my mind and an image in my heart right now, not an actual fact. The answer to the solution of dealing with the first part of these griefs are the virtue of patience. And applying myself to meet those goals to make it happen in my future.
The second part of this is (and I have mentioned this before- but it seems to be some deep hurt I go back to) is feeling my life stolen away from me. Watching and supposed to be happy for others, when that should be ME doing this or that. (I know I have the power to change that- I have to) The scary thing is, and the reason for my tears tonight- is that if I stay here for years to come, that may become a reality. I don't want to wait until it's too late, until the deep pain is just too much and I am burdened by my own inability to reach past my own despondency (which would be displaced- despondency over INACTION not in actually taking the leap, but unfortunately, it's so often that emotionally, wires get crossed) and everyone elses judgements of 'so sad, she never really had a chance to make it on her own did she? It's not like she can do ANYTHING on her own can she?' I know I am deemed as such, the people around me don't know me very well if they don't think I'm intelligent enough to figure that out. I can see my nieces having babies and getting married and being blissful, and I held each one of those girls when they were only a few hours old. It's not that I do not wish these things to come for them- but it's my fear, my sadness, my grief- that that one day- sitting on the sidelines being a spectator on life, with only my yearning as my companion may be a reality if I stay.
It's not that I want to be 'first'. It's not a contest. It's needing those things to happen away from everyone else, away from opinion, away from spoken words, away from expression. For those things to happen quietly on their own. Like summer bearing fruits, there is no noisy transition between the budding of the leaves in early spring, to the blossoms and then to fruit. It all happens seamlessly and quietly. All transitions are the same- even our human transitions. It is only the freak out of our ego's that make them loud. Our inner children who fear the change that make them loud.
I want that quiet place where I can work. Where I won't be subdued by opinion which actually turns out to be a form of power over, because when it is questioned, manipulation appears (A play on Fear, Obligation, Guilt). Where I won't be distracted by what everyone else thinks, or lives, or anything else. Where I can just leave judgement behind. And where I can grow on my own, and be happy and vibrant and nobody (even those who are not quite aware, as much as they love- as much as I love- how much they are hurting me) can take away, diminish my light ever again. I need to grow in my power on my own.
So, I have decided. I have decided that after court and after everything is wrapped up and mum is okay- that I will find my own place. This may be getting on some time next year, but I know that is where it starts. Because I cannot live the same. I cannot live being a shadow any more. I want to be a light all on my own.

So.... back to the first paragraph explanation- as I realize I have gone on quite a bit. Beauty in sadness for me is realizing the greatest distance between the depth of ill I had- to what sadness is for me now. And sadness now is just not an ugly thing any more. Instead, it is a guard completely broken down, and a completely open heart. I feel my deepest heart in my sadness. And you really can't get any more beautiful than that.

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