Goodbye old life

A year ago I was in the final stages of complete and utter mental and physical burnout - but I didn’t know it yet.

It took a lot more severe mental and physical pain to grind me down to absolute rock bottom before I was forced to stop all of the panic and say goodbye to all the dysfunctional ways I was trying to ‘fix’ my disastrous life.

I was never going to be capable of making the decision to drop my old life - better the devil you know - so my mind and body literally went on strike and refused to cooperate.

Letting go

Mentally I’ve progressed a massive amount over the last year. I know exactly where I went wrong for the previous 52 years of my life. I’ve worked exceptionally hard to make peace with the old me AND put new healthier mechanisms into practice in order to begin healing. I’ve learned which path I need to follow to suit my nervous system and allow it to stand down for the first time.

I can taste the potential of my new life, but I’m left with the mother of all physical hangovers - the after effects of five decades of anxiety, stress, self hatred, total self destruction and chronic illness, born from pushing too hard for too long. It won’t simply go away because I’m thinking happy thoughts.

I can see the path in front of me clearly now, but there’s still a large chasm between where I stand and my new life. The old ways have already begun to fade away behind me but I’m stuck in the void between, unable to reach the other side yet. I definitely don’t have any desire to go backwards and put myself through all that pain again, but my ADHD makes me impulsive. I’m being forced to accept that just because my mind knows the way now, this doesn’t mean I can just take the leap and sprint into a perfect new life. It’s deeply frustrating.

I’m impatient, desperate to finally put my newly learned practices into proper action and see them bear fruit, but I’m still broken. My engine is revving and raring to go, but I have no wheels to move anywhere.

The hardest part is yet to come

It’s strange to say this, but after everything I’ve been through - as my life has collapsed around me - this period of inertia, unable to progress when I know exactly what to do, is probably the hardest part.

I’m beyond tired, I’m bone deep exhausted and I have nothing left in the tank. I’ve released the old tension - I’ve unlocked and stepped out of the protective cage I built to shield myself as I bashed my way through life, bumping into the wrong things day after day.

All of those self protection mechanisms have gone now. I couldn’t hold them anymore. They’d weighed me down, picking up the detritus of a life of survival like the deep treads of my boots pick up mud as I walk through the woods trying my best to think positive thoughts. I’m lighter for their absence but I’m left feeling weak, vulnerable and hurt.

Time and self care are the only things which will allow me to heal and my next big lesson is to learn how to slow down without feeling like I’m still failing. I need to accept this change of pace, trust in the process and allow my wounds to heal naturally without force.

I’ll always have the scars but they are important reminders of what not to do in the third stanza of my life.

Goodbye old life

Goodbye old life. Goodbye to the masking and the hustle. Thanks for keeping me alive this long, but it’s time to leave you behind now. The slow life beckons now and I’m inching towards it day by day.