I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and promoting and planning a new chat with my friend Heather that we’re calling #AfterAbuseChat. I’ve been thinking about all of the things that come with healing, in general not just from abuse.
It occurred to me, that when you break a bone it takes time to heal. When you have a bruise, you learn to deal with the pain by moving on. But how do you do that when the broken bones come in the form of a broken spirit?
Because in all honesty, despite Halloween and Samhain or Sewain, I am damned tired, like physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted, and while I understand that people need people…people in general are the reason why.
I’m learning that I am a natural empath and I think this comes from – or rather I’ve actually been told in the past, that this comes from being abused as a child. Some children become hardened, mentally and spiritually to combat the pain of being abused. Others become more empathetic to the suffering of others.
There are countless reasons as to why some people become stronger versions of themselves who go on to champion the ills of the world, and others turn to drugs and alcohol, all too rarely coming back from the brink.
It’s an emotional kind of destruction you can only understand if you’ve been abused, and the healing process consists of deconstructing everything you thought you knew to be true, in order to understand the reality of the pain left in the wake of abuse. Even stoned I don’t really think I understand the depths that healing from abuse takes you too.
I’ve considered every option, including suicide, and I reached out instead to get some help finding some serious trauma counselling. I had to explain bits and pieces today, to give the person doing my intake, just how fucking messed up what happened to me was.
Some things – most things I’ve posted here at one time or another, so I won’t go into them again, but others I didn’t share with the world, for various reasons, mostly because I just didn’t want to.
I am learning that part of that process means choosing to be alone because I know that in this place I am at my absolute most mean, and I don’t want to put anyone through the stress of being with me right now. More importantly, I don’t have the emotional maturity to be anyone’s anything at this moment in time. I accept that but I’ve always been the kind of person who chose to be alone rather than to lean on others.
The only difference between the new Devon and the Old Devon is that the new Devon is tired of being alone, and is really fucking lonely.
There was a time I had a revolving door of friendships, friends that came and went, and then a close group of really good ones, whom I haven’t spoken to in years. Through out time and space a part I came to see just how selfish we’d all been with each other and I just wasn’t and still am not, interested in rebuilding bridges to people who couldn’t take care of themselves much less each other.
We weren’t even really friends, so I accepted them when they drifted away and wished them well on their journey. Today I genuinely couldn’t care less about a single one of them. I have my health, my mom, my brothers and sisters, and I am okay with just having family around. It’s about all I can handle, but isn’t that what your thirties are supposed to be about?
I think part of this eagerness to be alone, lonely as it is, is because I spent so many nights of my twenties, hanging out with people that I didn’t really like spending time around. So much so that I spent most of my twenties being drunk, and I can barely remember most of them.
But – and this is a serious question – are you all as exhausted as I am? Forget the people in your own life, what about the world? Between social media, and the media itself I feel like we’re all in that spot of being super ready to fight or completely wiped out and I’m in the latter group.
How long does this being tired thing last, and is it going to get better if I change my diet? I doubt it, I could give it a try but damnit I don’t want to, I am stubborn and tired and I am enjoying letting myself go just a little bit.
I don’t care – and I mean this seriously – I am finding that place of not caring what other people think of me again, and that’s the comfort zone. That’s where I like being. I am not worried about whether or not people like me, as long as they notice that my life has value, if not to them then to me, I think we’ll get along just fine.
I guess the point of this post is to remind myself that I am okay today. I made it through today and that’s all I can ask of myself.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall