Finding my voice

It’s early morning, and my house is asleep. I’m sat on the sofa in my living room, a cup of steaming Earl Grey in my hand, some tunes playing softly and the twinkling of the fairy lights on our Christmas Tree sparkling in the background. I’m relishing this quiet time, allowing myself to just sit with the silence. Not trying to distract myself with anything. Letting the thoughts come and acknowledging them rather than pushing them away, or drowning them out.

For the past two months, there has been this fog of depression hanging over me. Some days it felt like I was wading through mud, it was so difficult to move or to do the things that needed doing. I’ve tried to run away from the thoughts and the feelings and the fear, losing myself in sappy novel after sappy novel. Reading fictional happy ever afters, losing myself in make-believe worlds so that I don’t have to look at my world.

I’ve barely written on here, or on my Social Media because to do so requires me to tell untruths. To not talk about what is really going on, for that would mean I had to acknowledge how I was really feeling.

Blaming my low mood on pregnancy hormones.

Yet, now, finally, I am being honest with myself. Because if I am not, then it means I have to stay stuck in this situation. Plastering on the fake smile, telling the world that all is good and as it should be. I finally remembered how good it feels to speak my truth. Not just to the world around me, but to myself as well.

Pregnancy forced my hand in many ways. It put curb to the excessive drinking of the summer, drinking that really wasn’t me, that left me vulnerable and easily influenced. Drinking that made me forget who I am, forget what it is I want, made me forget to stand up for myself. Caught up in a whirlwind of hormones and emotions, flattered that anybody would be interested in me, I let go of my principals and boundaries. I overlooked things that didn’t sit right with my soul. I ignored the gut feeling that all wasn’t as it should be.

Being forced to be sober has reminded me of how good I feel when I don’t drink. When I am fully in control, when I can think clearly and my judgment isn’t clouded. Sobriety meant I had to look around at the life I found myself in, and see it for what it was. It meant that I couldn’t keep hiding from the unhappiness  I felt inside, from the loss of control that I felt.

It’s taken me some time to find my voice. To remember that I am allowed to stand up for myself, to keep my boundaries in place. That I owe no one anything, that my happiness is more important.

On the precipice of a New Year, I find myself at a crossroads. It’s time to honor myself, to listen to my gut, to pay attention to what I am feeling. To make a decision to put my boundaries back in place. Finding the strength and resilience that I’d let slide, knowing that whatever will be, will be – things are exactly as they are meant to be. I am the captain of my own ship, and I have to set my own course, sail towards my happiness and not be afraid of doing whatever that entails.