Tuesday, 6 November 2012
She is constantly breaking into pieces, changing, spinning himself towards God.
"Akhilandeshvaru never allows herself to become any kind of whole self with limitations, and she’s got a sweet ride: a crocodile! Crocodiles represent our reptilian brain, the place where we feel fear. She does not reject her fear or let it control her, she rides the unpredictable waves of the river right on top of it."
I am so constantly broken it's a wonder I can even get my broken legs out of my broken bed every morning. It's just the way I am - I'm used to it, now. Other people can see me as a bit of a freak. Cock their head to one side, ask me if I am "ok," with a condescension they cannot hold back. I make them feel so much better about themselves, yet I'd much rather be me than them. Being broken is beyond liberating. To feel how crazy and deranged you actually are, to laugh in the face of another mental hurricane?
I lost count of the times I lost my mind, this year. It's been a big year. I shared at a meeting on Sunday morning overlooking one of the most famous beaches in the world and I cried with pain and gratitude over all that has happened. Staying sober has been so hard this year but I have done it. Watching somebody in my family die has been horrible, sent me into a huge tailspin. The world is TERRIFYING. I don't know why we do ANYTHING. We are all just as lost and strange as each other. For so many years I drank because the world was about to end. And it kept not ending! Lately I've been filled with such a dread and fear about the world ending, like, for real this time. It keeps not ending. (Even though Mother Nature is trying to shrug us off like the parasites we are.)
I want to thank you for reading my blog, for witnessing my pain and struggles, for willing me on. I received emails from people I've never heard of just at the right time. The beautiful woman who found my blog back in March by googling "suicide" "alcoholism" "death." She sent me an email that saved my life. All of the things she couldn't say to anybody else, she told me. I cried so hard for her brother. I told her I wished I had sat underneath that tree, with her brother. The skull scarf that an anonymous reader posted. The colourful cranes. The words in my comment section, saying, "We understand."
All saved me. I'm so thankful. You are the real reason I blog. Just a few words from one person spurs me on to maybe write another post, about something constructive or bigger or encouraging.
When Jim was dying in hospital, I had this inexplicable feeling of wanting to go to India. Not long after he died, World Vision invited me to go to India. This trip has already saved me, given me something to focus on and look forward to. I've been secretly training like an athlete, doing meetings, eating well, getting my head ready. I have trouble making small talk with people and I cringe when I'm sitting with school mums, yet I can waltz into one of the most populated places on earth, visit some child labour camps, witness some huge poverty .. all on my crocodile.
Going to India is my reward for staying sober. When I get back home, I have to think of a new reward, have to trick my brain and heart again. Because I always get roped into listening to my dark side, the dark side that ALL of us have, even the head cockers. I don't know why my dark is so dark. It just is. When I was twenty I used to wail, having all the breakdowns."But why can't I just work in a bank and have a mortgage and be simple? Why do I have to be so AWARE?"
When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up and be a pop singer, give all my money to charity. (A show-off giver!) I'm a lot of things - we all are. You don't have to box yourself in by the constraints of other people and society. You are more powerful than you realise.
I have found a true freedom in being in a constant state of brokenness, riches and a power that is so bright it explodes the blackest night sky.
Being broken and empty means you are ready to be filled up, over and over and over again. It's wonderful. I highly recommend it.