The Smell of 'Being Dirty' and Shame
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This is a short poem about one of the many aspects of trauma recovery. Noticing things in the body, finding words to name them and describe them.
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Time
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I seem to be missing time at the moment. Like there isn’t enough of it. Like I keep filling it with things that I’m not sure I am supposed to do. Like I have no purpose with my time. Like my time does not belong to me.
I’m sure this is a very relatable feeling. As I’m hitting the keyboard with these words, an idea starts building in my head that maybe the reason why I feel like my time does not belong to me, is exactly because it doesn’t. Because I am filling that time with things I don’t want to do but force myself to do because I feel I ‘need’ to do them.
Read MoreMud, Sweat & Fear: The Journey to Braveheart
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Online Snapshots versus Reality
I must say, I love all those stories of the successful turning around from nothing to lots. If you are coming here for that, you will be disappointed, there are loads of those all over the internet. This is me, right in the middle of the muddy, messy part of my life, of having my own business and not being successful, yet.
Read More'I am fat'
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There you go, I can finally say (or write) this in a way that brings no strong reaction or emotion within me. I see it as a simple neutral statement that describes my body. My body is fat. I am fat.
This has not always been like this. Not so long ago, I would have cringed, felt deep shame, denied it, or chosen whatever other words I could think of, that felt more soothing to my self-perception.
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