This just appeared on my Facebook news feed. It has pretty much summed up my Christmas, and released me of my guilt in three short lines.

I’m in a beautiful part of the world, with my parents, eating lovely food, going for walks on the beach, and spending the rest of the time watching kids films in my PJs and fluffy slippers. I’m typing this post whilst lying in front of the fire, snuggled under T’s blanket. I am not thinking about work, I haven’t opened my laptop in days – I am just taking a break.

I am allowing myself to eat lovely food, even though I know I will gain weight. I fight all year with myself over food, and it feels okay to just spend a few days not worrying about it. I am allowing myself to fall asleep on my mum whilst she plays with my hair whilst we watch Midsomer murders. I have worked damn hard to have even the beginnings of a relationship with my mum, so I am allowing myself to take comfort and relax into it now. I am allowing myself to sleep in until 11am, because I spend so many days in my year fighting with sleep and fighting with waking. I am allowing myself to take my meds without fight, because they help me and it is okay to be helped. I am allowing myself to knit a fox, because I found an awesome kit for it yesterday and it helps me to feel connected to T through the symbolic connection that means so much more to Little. I am allowing myself to walk along the beach and feel connected to her through the repetitive rolling of the waves. I am allowing myself to feel the warmth of her, because I spend the rest of my year fighting to understand attachment and the agonies it brings. It is okay to spend a few days being content where I am, isn’t it?

I work damn hard, in my career, my therapy and my social life. I fight, every day, to get up and make something of my life. I sit in hours of therapy, I spend hours fighting myself to allow healing. There is no doubting that I am on a journey and that journey is bloody hard.

But I’ve also come a long way. And today I am trying to allow myself to find comfort in that. Because although there is such a long way to go in my pursuit of happiness, I’ve already found so much more ‘happy’ than I had, even a year ago. So I’m going to enjoy it.



2 responses »

  1. The Greek poet, Archilochus, wrote: “The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.” Harder to knit a hedgehog, I suppose. What might the one big thing be?

    • Ha yes I suppose a hedgehog would be more challenging to knit (and the fox obsession comes from Little’s new favourite book!). What an interesting quote. I am not intelligent enough to know the answer!

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