I have been short of words for the past month or so. The reason for this is that I am engaged in what can be accurately described as a class struggle, the details of which I can’t share due to legal implications. I am at the heart of this and those who would see me fail are now after me personally. Beyond discussing the detail of the actual case (which is not an option), it didn’t feel like there was much to say.
But when we look inside, there is always something to say. Sometimes we feel external pressure has caused us to lose our voices. I’ve certainly felt like that lately. Trying to balance the expectations of my peer groups, various support groups with conflicting advice, plus the inevitable hurt and humiliation that results from being the victim of a personal attack on my character… in the turmoil we tend to lose touch. Through the confusion, the intense effort to make a clear picture of what is happening has the ironic effect of blocking out the only voice that has the ability to provide that clear picture.
Rationally, I know I have done nothing wrong, I know why I am under attack. I am able to talk my head out of being scared. Or that’s what I tell myself, anyway.
Which doesn’t account for why I have had perpetual stomach-aches, nausea, dizziness, crying fits, and the seemingly relentless sense that someone removed all my bone marrow from my skeleton while I was sleeping. Obviously, attempts to rationalise the issue are failing me.
One of the core lessons I am aware of in this experience is that your darkest hour is also your most illuminating. All the weaknesses in your psyche get put under a huge spotlight. I may as well use this experience as an opportunity to publicly dissect myself, in the hope that someone in a similar situation will find the comfort and strength to get themselves through similar situations. This I believe to the the core philosophy of The Daily Sisterhood. I am going to allow this to be what it is rather than resist it. Though I have no idea yet what they will be, I am going to reap the hidden blessings of coming under fire.
On Monday, when I realised I was in fact not okay despite what I was telling myself, I then faced the agonising truth that I had to reach out to get help. I, perpetual defender of others, had fallen mute in defending myself. I stand up constantly for the rights of those I am protecting, but when I myself need support, it appears I get lost. I don’t know how to do the same for myself as I do for those around me.
What ended up being my lifesaver is my year-long commitment to telling my truth. If I’m not okay, it may be hard for me to say “I’m not okay”, but I sure won’t be tellling anyone, “I’m okay”.
So when I needed help, I said “I can’t do anything right now.” My friend asked, “are you alright?” Instead of responding with language, I burst into tears.
Which is probably the most authentic response I could have given him, really.
I believe our biggest struggle as humans is to overcome our fear of rejection and be more and more authentic. Often on here I like to present my articles as a lesson already learned, processed and ready to be passed on.
Not now. I can’t do that now, because I am in trouble. I can tell the truth or I can say nothing at all, and as our philosophy is dedicated to truth, I have only one option.
What I can promise – to you, but more to myself – is this: as I walk through this journey, as I walk down my path unable to see my next step, I will pick up every stone I stumble over, identify it and share it here. I will allow the light straight into the depths of my walk through the valley.
And if my posts seem more confused/less coherent now than they normally do – you will have to bear with me, this is an accurate reflection of my state of mind.