Blowout

Yesterday I finally blew. Tipped over the edge. A small request to put a bed away, much like, make your bed — and that was it.

Here is how I eventually regulated.

I verbalised it in front of my Dad. Expletives and all. He gave me a big hug and held me until my body softened. I fed myself crumpets and coffee. I fed my dog and had plenty of cuddles. I moved forward and completed the task of getting Ethan’s lunch together. I arranged a coffee with a friend who happened to reach out about thirty minutes after the blowout. I messaged another friend so I knew I was not alone. I talked with my Mum — hugs from her too. She looks me in the eyes and tries to solve it for me, but just by her being there it is helpful. I talked to a friend at the school playground at drop off. I saw loads of people I knew on the school run, all of whom smiled at me and said hello.

I showed up for work and decided to work from home rather than rushing in and back. I stated what I needed to my co-parent. I read an article that helped sent from a friend at work. I shared my frustrations with my boss. I put on soothing music while I worked in between meetings. I lit a candle so I could smell sweet vanilla. I put on a cosy jumper — a bit like my current dressing gown.

And then I went on with my day.

With these thoughts in my head of how to comfort myself, how to regulate — and then the messages just kept flooding in. Steady and constant. As soon as I started to put things down and to stop talking to myself in a really negative way, more messages upon more messages. People telling me they were thinking of me. People telling me they hoped I was okay, following something I had shared on Sunday. People telling me they had been praying for me.

There is a level of encouragement here that is almost unbelievable. And I think the reason I probably haven’t had this in my life before now is because I’ve never allowed myself to feel worthy enough. Never allowed myself to be held in a regard that is respected and whole.

So here’s to more chapters unfolding on this journey. The work is never quite done, is it? And I’ll keep showing up. I’ll keep doing what I need to do. And sometimes that might look like sitting in bed with a coffee and writing. Sometimes that might look like having an afternoon nap. And sometimes that might be going to a conference in London.

For the last four years, no day has been the same for me. I do the same things, but never in the same environment or with the same energy around me. And what a privilege it is to live each day in good health and good spirits, surrounded by so many people who are cheering me on.