It’s been a long time since I last wrote for you, Rafael. Many reasons for that, between new job (reaching the top of my career as a security professional) and everyone in our house struggling with their own mental health. It’s been tough, namely in the last year. But I think I’m finally starting to heal (with help) and I want you to know about it. Because if there’s something I’ve never been good at (not with myself, family, friends or anyone else) is to show my own vulnerabilities but it’s high time I do so or I’ll never heal. So I can be the best me, for you, your sister and your mum.
Actually, scratch that. Because that’s exactly why I never got to heal. I’ve always obsessed so much of being my best me for my family, my teams and companies I work for that I never prioritised ME and what I need. I’m human too, and sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I forget that everyone else’s problems are not my crosses to bear, they’re theirs. And I deserve more from me.
I’ve blogged before how my childhood was hard and how I had to endure things I shouldn’t have had to and dealing with things which weren’t mine to deal with. My father’s addictions, my mother’s mental health demons. And as it turned out, I’ve inherited both and they’re now mine to deal with too.
And now, at 40 years old, I’ve had a lifetime of avoiding my own healing needs, but no more. And as both you and your mum deal with your own issues, including your autism diagnosis that leaves you amplifying what happens around you, plus my own struggles with work-life balance, all combined has been overwhelming me. So I started going to therapy too, so I can heal a lifetime of repressing my feelings and emotions by focusing all my energy and waking hours on everyone else’s needs and struggles.
But I can’t do that anymore. I’ve lost the ability to keep them in, and that’s a good thing. No choice but to face them, and face them I will. And it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life and I never felt so afraid, because I don’t know who I’ll be on the other side of healing.
I’ve been telling myself for over 20 years that what didn’t kill me made me stronger (as the saying goes) but that’s not true. What didn’t kill me, left parts of me broken. It’s the healing from broken that makes one stronger, and I never allowed myself that and I had never acknowledged I needed healing. And being broken shouldn’t be a badge of honour.
I need better coping skills, I need to voice my struggles and emotions and feelings and let my demons out into the world so I can look at them and dance with them. And I think this is my first breakthrough within myself. I’m indivisible from my demons. They’re part of me. I am them and they are me. So if I set the goal, as many do, as to slay my demons, I’m setting myself up to fail from the start.
So if I can’t slay them, then I need to learn to dance with them and grab their hands, invite them to the journey of my life and give them a seat at the table, next to me and not as the shadow I refuse to look at. But I also need to set boundaries. Just because they’re along for the ride, doesn’t mean they get to be at the driving seat and I can’t let them guide me.
So, Rafael, this was about me but, I suspect, also about you. I think (and hope I’m wrong) that you’ll spend your life feeling different from your peers, like I did. That you’ll struggle with feeling inadequate or insufficient and I apologise as I know that sometimes I contribute to that and I hate knowing I do and I can only promise I’ll try my best to be better than that.
So I hope that, as both of us continue with our respective struggles and therapy, that we get better coping skills and that we both become better dancers. We both owe it to ourselves, first and foremost. I love you, son. And hope we both learn to dance
