I’ve never been human.
A human feels things. 
I never have.
Except for feeling like nothing. 
And not in an enlightened kind of way.

A little bit of prose after providing feedback to someone in a group forum. Apparently doing that triggers anxiety in me. The type that I usually try and avoid.

After some pondering this trigger, I usually avoid doing speaking or writing in a group or public forum because it wasn’t safe when I was small. My body remembers the feeling of being attacked for speaking in a group, or speaking my needs; and it tightened and contracted.

Now I have the opportunity to feel that I am safe. I have my own back.

Maybe I am human.
The things that were locked away,
no longer need to be.
I can be my own safety.
And learn to feel things anew.

As I’m rereading some old posts, I come across “Angry and Helpless“, and how so many things have changed. Back then, the lies we were fed about the severity of the pandemic had a death grip on me. I was so terrified, and upset for what they sold us the world would now looks like.

But it’s incredible how much can change in the time since that post.

I’m no longer living in fear. And our lives have changed in amazing ways, directly due to the pandemic and response by authorities. My girl has an incredibly bright future ahead of her, filled with amazing friends, love and joy, and so much free time for creating things she’s interested in.

There are still things that I hope for, such as those who caused social, emotional, economic and mental health destruction to be held accountable, but I’m not living in the space of depending on it.

It wasn’t easy by any means, but coming out of it has lead to so much soul searching and uncovering of my spirituality, and a deep dive on what I really believe.

I hope you’re coping ok xo

It’s been a sad morning. I’ve had tears in my eyes since my meditation. I’ve realised that my daughter will not live a normal childhood filled with time with other kids and it’s made me so sad. If she spends time with others, it will come with the proviso that she doesn’t touch or hug them.

As a young adult, I had a fixed way of thinking. It was black and white, with no grey. And those black and white areas included my self esteem and self worth, how I should be loved, what work is and is not, and who I am and am not.