Theres lots of reasons why I struggle with this time of the year. Quite apart from this year in which I’m navigating a new job, a new home and living in a new area between January and March.
This time of the year, has too many other reminders.
Some days fluctuate, so its not a set date, like mothers day.
But others are fixed.
For two of my friends on facebook I note that today has been a day to remember significant life-health events, memories that have feelings. Feelings of relief, of process, of accomplishment, of gratitude of being alive- so so good to read, and look back in this way.
I think I accepted a while ago that I didnt actually have parents. They do exist and are alive. But they don’t exist as parents. They weren’t ever parents, in the actual sense. Not parents who cared, loved, protected or nurtured. Not parents who educated, supported or empathised. Not parents who you tell everything to, felt safe or warm with or know that they would be there, or that they would give everything for their children. They exist orbiting their own toxic emotional world.
And I can accept that, and I choose not to have anything to do with them.
It’s been a very long long process to get to.
As many of you may have read, in the previous blogs on this site. The journey of me coming to terms with, and dealing appropriately with them, for my own well being and sake has been significant.
But todays date loomed a bit in the calendar.
And I kind of knew it might do.
However much, and its probably only the second year that I have had to deal with this day as a difficult day – last year I was in the process of the dealing with, my emotional place was in a different.
So today from a place of acceptance, I was expecting the feelings.
April 8th is one of parents birthdays, its also the day I remember on which my lovely grandad died 23 years ago.
A double ‘memory-feel’ day.
I used to not think about these kind of days. Growing up avoiding emotions, with a survival mentality and closed, all I would do on days like thins was do everything I could to pretend it wasnt today, avoid it. Do everything to distract.
The feelings lying lurking in the corner as I was scared of feeling them, and not in a safe place to do so. Avoid. Fear.
Some triggers hit you unawares, and I think I’m fortunate on that regard, very few things in my daily life have any reminder of my parents – well until last weekend when I used an electric drill for the first time in 3 years – but not normally – there’s no favourite foods, smells, music, cultural references that remind me of them in day to day.
So im left largely with dates. Significant dates – memory-feel dates. Birthdays, Mothers/Fathers days, those kind of thing.
Before I might have tried to avoid all of this, because I always thought the pain of all the emotions would be significant.
Today, theres been a mixture of pain, grief, anger, relief, and also sense of growing up and standing up to them – defending and protecting myself.
I knew id have a reaction today. Some of those feelings have welled up a bit. Its caused me to think of my own children, to think about being a dad, to think about having to be my own parent to myself and my own inner child – to reparent myself.
It was ok to cry a bit today. On my couch, in my nice new flat. No need to hold back the moment of the feelings. Just let them come out. Crying is good. Didn’t need to be for long, just enough to let what was welling up come out, release a bit. Let them out.
It didnt hurt anyone by feeling my emotions, the ones so far today anyway.
And I wrote a bit in my therapy journal.
Acceptance of the situation of today, its memories also acceptance that the emotions may just come out. Acceptance that the day may have moments. Acceptance that I am human, raw and vulnerable. That I dint just need to try and survive by avoidance.
Theres been happy feelings today too, as its days like this when Christelle just knows how to make me laugh and cry at the same time.
Awareness that the present of today might include recurrence and residues of the past.
An all the feels kind of day.
One of the slightly raw ones.
Thats its absolutely ok to have.
Accepting the ‘Memory-feel’ days.
Giving myself the opportunity to tell myself, again, of the truth of myself, and loving myself, that I am ok, and I am safe and loved.
I write this as I’m on the train to London from my new home in Darlington, having moved in 6 days ago. Today I say goodbye (professionally) to my FYT colleagues on a first team day in over 2 years.
But yesterday I realised that I could breathe.
It was the first time I could breathe and let my body relax since at least 9th December. 3 months of feeling the underlying ache of anxiety and having to respond well to it.
It was on 9th December that I got the news I was being made redundant from a job I loved. The rest of the month was spent dealing with that.
It was also spent looking forward to spending Christmas with away in the USA and dealing with all the flight paperwork, permission, covid tests and travel. The time away was glorious by the way, and the break I needed, and I got engaged to my beautiful love Christelle.
But I knew whilst I was away what I was coming back to, looking for work.
Nope. Not quite.
For, on 9th January my letting agent called, I thought it wasn’t a normal time for them to call, to say that the landlord was selling the flat I was in,I had two months to move out. Yes, I know it was longer notice than usual , but it was nice that the date of my birthday this year was also written large on my eviction notice.
So, now I had to find somewhere to live and somewhere to work. Breathing took on a whole new dimension. Breathing to cope. Breathing to stay regulated.
Trying to respond well in the midst, meant living it, not necessarily writing about it. It meant accessing the therapy homework, journalling feelings, breathing.
My rational brain said that my flat was just bricks and mortar, but given the role it has played in my healing, recovery and rebuilding, it had become so much more. I went through feelings of betrayal when I saw new flats. Even though I knew I had no choice but to move, I still didn’t want to.
My rational brain also wondered how I’d find a new flat in a competitive market without a job that was more than a few hours per week. Thats a rational thought..isn’t it?
I kept reminding myself that through all these life circumstances that they were just that, life circumstances, they weren’t all of life. I tried to tell myself that I am the sky, not the clouds. Life is bigger and I am more than these circumstances..even if these circumstances are challenging. They will pass.
Even if the Sky/cloud thing is a good metaphor, doesn’t mean that I didn’t struggle with dealing with the emotions of everything. I could sense myself trying to say ‘Im ok’ when I wasn’t, and avoiding wanting to face the emotions of frustration, shock, grief and loss. I could say that I was a model patient of myself , noting my emotions and being present to them. But that wouldnt be true. Even after sitting in the emotion, noting it, breathing and working through it was a good thing each time. Didn’t always mean that I wanted to face them every time.
And everything I didn’t it lurked in the background a little bit longer, chipping away as I avoided it.
I may have re read Eckhart Tolle during these last three months on being present and learning acceptance, but I had to do it. Accepting, going with the flow, offering less resistance. Opportunities may be waiting, but feeling acceptance, trusting the present was a hard gig. By the way also read both of Kishimi and Koga’s books on courage during this time. Maybe life circumstances like this are a good time to read Adlerian psychology. Or to do a counselling course at college. Maybe pain is where more is revealed. Maybe pain and change is a time for learning and digging deep. Or maybe just self help books are my current drug. Then again, as I remember, Richard Rohrs book Falling Upwards started all of this 4 years ago and that was read as I was made homeless and jobless then too.
Just heading through Doncaster. If anyone is here for the travel update. Talking of trains, they, and nature have been places of calm in the gaps. Being mesmerised looking at life through binoculars forced the present to be more aware.
Looking at nature in its pattern, regular trips to cowpen bewley woodland park to watch kingfishers, swans, and owls have been hugely grounding.
The space that was my safe grounding place was now a place of tension, as the boxes began to be filled, as shedding happened, as the date loomed. Outside breathing space was more required.
But then I’d see sunsets and nature changing, and it remind me of my own situation. I would be my own metaphor. Yet I was trying to stay present an see what I could see for what it was. Then I’d remember to breathe again.
Positive news of changes emerged, new job and flat were found, I had been accepted and affirmed by others. Now I needed to continue to accept the changes, to accept and make the move into new things. It is now a week since I said goodbye to my old flat and I’ll write more about that soon. But as the removal men left having unpacked my stuff, at 4pm Thursday I clenched my fists and exclaimed ‘Yes’ I did it…I’m home.
I did two hard things at once. More than that, it was a myriad of many tiny hard things, making choices, viewing flats, interviews, travel, whilst also staying alive, cooking, resting, shopping, self care during it all.
And saying goodbyes. Which I hate doing. This was also something revealed to me. One of many things.
I’m now nearly at Peterborough, and the WiFi signal on the train is fluid and maybe a sign to end this piece. Reflecting on my last 3 months. Noting how the last 3 days have felt peaceful and calm in comparison. Noting how practicing breathing in the cloud gaps is different to when the sky is clearer.
As for metaphors this piece might be a cork piece. I was dealing with too many things to write much here, writing this piece and now that I’ve moved, I’ll have more head/emotional space to do more writing. There’s at least 10 drafts started in the last 3 months that didn’t get written. I’m grateful too for those who have offered presence during this time, sitting , listening, and understanding as Ive worked through all this change, especially to my love Christelle.
Breathing clean calm air after facing and doing hard things. I feel light again, I can breathe…
James Ballantyne 