7 months of Self Kindness



It has been 7 months since I returned to the UK after a fairly horrific and traumatic experience overseas.

I’m that time I have:

- grieved for the home I lost
- struggled with my identity
- said goodbye to wonderful friends
- dealt with unfinished issues. Goodbyes that couldn’t happen. Promises that couldn’t be fulfilled.
- mourned for a child I might have been having by now 
- struggled with my professional confidence 
- left a job I loved 
- managed the unfairness of it all
- dealt with the general logistics of moving 7,000 and starting again back where I was three years ago. 

It’s been exhausting. But I promised myself that I would be kind. To myself and to others. 

Not so easy at first. We all have the voice that tells us we aren’t good enough. The one that keeps us awake the night before exam results day or that has us in school three hours early on the day of the school show/trip/practical etc 

In January my inner voice had a loudspeaker and a soapbox and was relentless. 

“If only you’d shut up and kept your head down”
“When will you learn just to toe the line and do the job”
“You knew this would happen because you ALWAYS ruin things”
“You idiot! What are you going to do now!?”
“This really IS a failure!!”
“You are going insane. It’s probably for the best that you step away”

And much MUCH worse. I was bullying myself! I said things in my head that I wouldn’t dream of uttering to others. I called myself names. I reduced my worth to nothing. 

Only the unwavering faith that other people had in me kept me from tipping over the edge into 100% pure self loathing. 

If they could see something worthwhile in me then maybe, deep down there was something good and I owed it to the people who loved me to make this all ok. 

It started off as duty. Being kind to myself because everyone was telling me to do that. So I made a show of “self care”. Surface deep. I still didn’t believe I deserved it. 

I made a big point of being grateful for everything. I’m not unaware that things could have been so much worse and I came away relatively unscathed. 

My gratitude grew and with it I realised that kindness was good for me. I enjoyed watching other people blossom under my words or actions. I felt satisfaction and purpose in making people feel better. Without even realising, I started to allow myself to feel good about these acts of kindness. My inner voice couldn’t touch this bit of me! Oh, it told me I was a fake and a self serving fraud alright! But ultimately it couldn’t change the fact that my kindness had a POSITIVE impact. I started to realise that I was actually quite ok. Nobody can keep up a pretence of niceness forever if it is not well meant and real. I really was a fairly nice person! 

I think that might have been about three months ago. The very first time that I acknowledged to myself that I didn’t deserve the scorn and hatred I had poured on myself for decades. 

For the first time in my entire life....

I liked myself. 

I forgave myself. 

I was kind to the broken, little me that cowered from the monster that was depression, anxiety and low self esteem. I gave her a hand to hold on to and a voice of her own. 

My demons still scream at me now and again and I doubt I shall ever mute the voice that tells me I’m not quite good enough but there is another voice there now too. One that quietly, gently and confidently says “You are ok. You can do this. You are worthwhile. I believe in you”

And I listen, because I have learned that words of love and kindness are more powerful than those of hate. 

And I will not allow the good in this world to be drowned out by the utter hideousness of unkindness.  


Comments

  1. Missg31 July 2019 at 12:15

    What can I say honest, amazing and brave x

    ReplyDelete
  2. Unknown6 September 2019 at 00:04

    This journey sounded sad.
    As I read every word I see a new bud growing into what it is intended to portray.
    Beautiful and loved.
    Showing everyone its colors of joy.

    ReplyDelete

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