I was at the beach with my parentals today. I’ve taken to swimming in a big way this spring/summer season and try to visit beaches, lakes, rivers or the sea as often as I can. Today was very hot and I rejoiced in the opportunity to go for a dip after work. The sea was warm (not too warm, but real nice for a swim) and relaxing to float in.
Whilst at the beach, my mum asked me how I was feeling these days. Mostly about my job, which I have not been super-pleased with, having had big expectations prior to starting it. But perhaps also about everything else in my life, well-being, mood, relationships, whatever is contained in the big ball of fluff labelled existence.
I said ‘I am not sure if I know’. Recently, I have had trouble returning to myself, as I like to call it. Or, hearing my thoughts. I used to heavy-contemplate on the regular, and in a way I felt I heard my thoughts a lot more, was more in touch with my innards. This lead to good and bad consequences. The good being, know thyself and myself I knew. The bad being, some of the things inside me of course were not enjoyable to hear.
These days, I spend more time with other people, being employed in customer service and speaking to/with folks all day. Their lives and experiences fill the space in my head that used to belong to my experiences. After work I may see my boyfriend, or a friend. I volunteer, so I may hold a support group and hear other people’s stories about their lives and experiences. I become distant from myself.
This scares me. It’s uncommon to me and sometimes I really fear I am losing myself, being with others too much. I think that is not the case though, but rather un-usedtoness (if that’s not a word, it is now). I spent the last couple of years in isolation, even if acquaintances would think I was a sociable, cheery butterfly. I am simply just not used to spending time with people. I have not yet realized that being with people will not make me less of me. For I used to always censor myself with others and somewhere in me flows a current of fear. Fear of being driven into censoring myself again, if I spend more time with people.
Censoring myself has always related to my ED. When I have felt pressure to limit myself, my anxiety and my unhealthy behaviours have been strong. What egg-chicken came first there, that is anyone’s guess. Regardless of what cause what effect, when I have managed to eat better I have censored myself less, been truer to myself.
I have recently thought, why must I view other people as threats to myself and the realization of my true authentic self? Maybe it’s the old classic: childhood trauma. Being bullied for both my weight and how I was: creative, fearless, exuberantly my own person. These two are in my mind still mildly tangled even though I try to let go of the stringy messes and release myself as I am into the world.
I know what I think and who I am when I write. I write to hear my thoughts. Other people are not a threat to my writing, it’s just an excuse. I haven’t written enough recently to really enter a space where I hear my own breath sufficiently and know most corners of my brain-mind. I should write more, even when I am tired. It’s good for the soul. During this blog post already I have come to realize some things, and they do just flow out of me when I start typing. I recommend wording out your thoughts regularly to anyone and to everyone. It seems to work.