Yesterday I had the most difficult conversation in my Healing Career so far. It sucked. I didn’t want to do it. I knew I had to. The time was right. Just because I didn’t feel ready didn’t give me reason to chicken out. I told my parents a lot more details about the abuse I have endured. After I felt incredibly light, like a 10 tonne weight was removed from my being. I could see the weight transferred to my parents. So while I felt a lot better, they felt a lot worse.

I passed out on the couch accidentally after and missed putting pen to paper. When I went to bed I knew I had the option of waking up a bit to blog or choosing sleep. I chose sleep. While on the couch I had a dream about the same black door that had been in my dreams many times in recent weeks. Still unsure of the meaning of it, it appeared again, and surprisingly the door disappeared and I was granted access. I am not sure why I was granted this access. Behind the door was a never-ending corridor, with many doors along the length of the corridor. There were stairs that led to the next level, and the next and the nest. I don’t have the power or the knowledge to be able to drive my dreams. I was curious about what was in the rooms, curious about what this corridor was and where it leads to. I believe it will be revealed to me in time. For now, have accepted this access. I am not sure how I felt being in there either. I wondered if it was access to where my memories are meant to live, or some part of my brain at least. I slept soundly and I woke at 5.30am without an alarm, and I woke refreshed. I am not sure if those three things have happened for me ever in my life.

I checked in with Mum this morning. I asked her how her heart was. She was tossing and turning in the night. The transference at play. I tried to soothe her with my healing wisdom. I tried to comfort her with the fact we are in this together, if she wants it to be that way. She told me she should be the one taking care of me. She is right. Nothing about my story is conventional. It’s not like what I see in the movies, or on tv shows, or on social media.

I woke in good spirits, and I tidied the house, went for a morning walk and grocery shopping, all before 8am, This is unheard of for me. I want nothing more than to wake up and get my day started, so I went with it. As the day went on, my fatigue kicked in as usual. I tried and did stay awake the whole day. In the afternoon the suicidal ideation was back. I thought I would have had a longer break than that. I guess not.

I wish I had the balls to write on here about how the conversation went. Maybe I do, it’s just not the right time. I am trying to be there for myself and it is very hard. I have no idea what I am doing. Just flying by my coat seams, it feels like.

Sleep is calling me. I wish for deep rest tonight. I would love to be back in the corridors and to learn more about them, if the time is right. It will all make sense eventually.

Why is my life so difficult? Why am I always fighting to stay this side of life? Will a long reprieve come for me? Will I ever be able to love and accept all of this?

Lots of love,

Kate