"Some of us ran so far away during a period of survival, that we forgot to come back home to ourselves." - Lalah Delia
I've spent the good majority of this year in survival mode. While I wanted to believe I was happy with my new life and job down south, my attachment blinded me to my own suffering. I was convinced that suffering was just part of life and I needed to learn how to deal with it and keep choosing to be happy.
Looking back on my journal entries, I realized I should not have been fighting so hard to be part of my team, I should not have been changing myself so much to fit in. When all of the things I was attached to were ripped away, it was not just my attachment but the safety of being allowed to stay in New Zealand. There was no time to process the hurt and betrayal. I could talk about it but I was not processing it on a higher level.
I was so fixated on finding a new job and getting a visa for safety, I left behind all the things that were me. There was no time to "waste" enjoying life and many nights were spend in lows that had me contemplating permanent solutions to a temporary situation.
I can look back and say that I was brave as I walked into all my interviews with the confidence that I already had the job (I was offered every position I interviewed for, so I would say I managed my survival well) but there was no time during that period I could face myself. At least not in a loving way.
When My visa was approved and safety was secured, there was a relaxed celebratory period, consisting of hiking, exercising, art and writing and all the things I had been craving. That period was short-lived and followed by a period of no sleep, horrific nightmares, a heaviness that I thought may crush me and an odd feeling that I was leaking. Yes, leaking.
I had not processed any part of my attachment or my loss and it had caught up with me to rob me of the joy of moving up on the hierarchy of needs. I tried to convince myself it was over and to "just move one" like my friend expected me to. I had to cry about it and write about it but this time was different because I was cry and writing from a place of safety.
When everything first happened, I cried from a place of fear, a place lacking my basic needs. It was a different layer. This time, I was crying and grieving the positives I had to let go of: my Bachata and Pole dance instructors, my chiropractor, my favourite coffee place, my favourite doughnut place, the best bagel joint in New Zealand and because it was a small town all these places knew me by name and made me feel like part of the community. I had to give up being so close to the beach that it was the first place I went after work with no traffic or crowds. While I did not have any close friends there I was getting closer to myself.
The other part I had to face was all the hate and anger that had grown. It festered beneath my skin, an infection spreading untreated. It hurts to sit with hate. It is such a painful malevolent thing. What would have become of my heart if I avoided it and left it untreated? You can't just let an infection go, you have to treat it. I can honestly say that the would is still there but it is healing each day, with gratitude and hope.
After a week or so of nightmares and sitting with the subconscious messages, I can say that I feel better about who I am becoming. That I responded to my trauma as best I could and I made choices that made me stronger. Now that I am safe again, I can continue to sit with these parts of me and process what needs to heal.
"Return home to yourself. You are safe now." - Lalah Delia
What are you avoiding that may need healing? Is there something in you that needs your attention? Or are you still trying to secure your safety? What do you need to feel safe?
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