August 1 2022
I've returned to an old notebook of drawings and found just a handful of journal entries. I barely journaled while in my last relationship (2019-2023). A terrible habit I've repeated in every relationship I've been in. Instead my exes replaced my journals, becoming a home for all of my thoughts and feelings and ideas. I won't be doing that again.
I listen better. Especially in the future. I read my journals and I give younger Alyson so much compassion and love for not only getting through a life feeling chronically alone and unimportant, but also for documenting it and allowing me a place to return to hard feelings. When I return, I can mourn. When I mourn, I grieve, I cry, I release.
I wish someone told me that healing is possible. I wish someone told me that we can digest our pain by feeling it. It clears space, making room for something new.
Since almost only the beginning and the end of the relationship were written about, it was a gift to find that I had documented a time in-between. I'd like to share with you what I wrote, below.
Done things today I haven't done in a while. Including this: Trying to come back to me again. It feels so right to be putting this pen on paper. A future reminder to myself of this point in time. Naked, sweating, curly, frizzy, a big chubby belly. New tattoos. Hand cramping already. How did I write so much before? How did I care about myself enough to document my life? I've felt it to be so pointless now. But back to doing old things. I walked around the block, read for a while - even when it rained. I miss feeling safe reading indoors. Feeling safe ever. I've changed so much since 2020 and it feels like I've simmered away, like evaporation. Like sand being sifted. Less than I used to be.
As if gaining 50 pounds made me less than. But my depths of anger in this relationship. How I scare him with my contempt, raised voice, refusal to be touched. The anxiety and shame and guilt just playing on loop. Constant headaches, neck pain, diarrhea, exhaustion, fucked up birth control hormones, SSRI's, heat exhaustion, a climate crisis, monkey pox, covid, nobody masking since february (? or longer?) I have to dig in the dirt and find the me I threw out because I was too tired. Too tired to do more than watch countless reality TV shows while stoned as hell chugging mango juice from the convenience store that sells N95's.
Danced to Beyonce's new album. What a relief, a godsend at these times! My bank app told me I spend $1600/month on food/restaurants (uber eats) - what the fuck? That's one of 2 pay checks I make a month. I'm gluttony and sloth and I can be really mean. But I'm also full of love and bursting with empathy and care and emotion and put good into the world. I'm trying to cheer for her. I want to watch things shift. I want more security, more peace, more trust, less fear, always love. 2 months until I move in with Connor. 115 Marion St. I expect it to be beautiful.
Reader, it wasn't. My mental health got so much worse. The move with my ex was the catalyst for my life blowing up. Thank fucking god.
A 2025 update: Psychotherapy has essentially "cured" my TMJ and clenching that lead to almost daily headaches since I was a child. I spend WAY less on Uber Eats but I'm still working towards healing my relationship with food and cooking. I was SO isolated from any kind of friendship and community support over those years - today I would say I feel today really happy and grateful for the connections I've made since I started my healing journey. I've been steadily kicking out my people-pleaser tendencies and I feel more solid, content and proud of myself within my body. I don't let other people tell me who I am anymore.
I don't let other people's lack of capacity to be there for me define me. I don't let my abusive sister's voice echo in my head anymore. The one that told me that nobody liked me, how unimportant I was, how selfish I was, rude, annoying, spoiled. NOPE. That was never me. That was you, Leanne.
I define me. I have nothing to convince anyone. I love my light and I love my shadow. I have no ego and I have no problem being accountable to any harm I may cause. I know I am a special person now. I know I am one of a kind. I don't think like everyone else and I know now that that is a super power. I have began to accept myself for who I am, and to not look at myself through the lens of the people too cowardly to face themselves.
I've evolved into a wise and beautiful healer. I am so fucking glad my life blew up. I have found so much adoration and respect and love for myself that I've never thought possible. Isn't that fucking sick????
I hope you have such a nice January 23rd. I love you!
Sincerely,
Al
