I hold alot of shit in. I hold it deep in my heart, and I protect it, hold it tight and close. I like to sugar coat things, and look nice. I like to be easy and controlled for you. Until this morning. Today I am on day 11 of no wine, Almost 4 years of no smoking and 3 and a half years of running, 4 half marathons, a 15km, 2, 5km;s and 2 10km races. All to try and cleanse myself of my grief and trauma that I have endured. I also, like to see how far I can go and remind myself of the strength I hold inside. Running does that for me. Depending on my day.
This morning I open my eyes, and was struck with a massive hate for myself. A hate for the things I did in the past, for the people I hurt, for the hurt I did to myself. How I would compromise myself in the most horrific ways to feel acceptance, and love. I couldn't breath. I wanted to rip my skin off and walk out of this body. How this morning and still now.. I feel like a fraud. How I put on a mask every morning, and smile when I dont fucking want to.
How I try to be so pure and perfect to clean away my past, To just "get over it already." hoping it will wipe it clean. Hoping that images won't fall into my awareness..
Well, I learnt one thing.. it doesn't.
Searching and searching for more, for a connection. For a peace a satisfaction, a successful career, passion, adventure. To be seen.
To find connection in myself, satisfaction in myself, feel successful in myself, passion with myself and adventures with myself. But see... I may be backwards but... Ive been doing things myself for a long time.. and it gets lonely.
When I look into these eyes I see so much sadness. With a ray of hope. My journey is not to be a successful photographer or entrepreneur, My journey is to stay sacred to my soul. That in itself is fucking hard. Living in a an externally referenced world. Its something i'm willing to do. Because - it is a fucking miracle that I am not dead with a needle in my arm in an alleyway somewhere. Because of this I know I have some work to do here, some books to write, or speeches to be made... something to share, and people to love so hard.. So hard.. including myself. So here is to a real day. A real authentic day of grief, and solitude and truth. Thats the shit. I am willing to roll around in.