Life Changing Times

Done and dusted. Eighty thousand words, similar amount of emotions laced with various levels of hysteria. And lots of tears.

None of which I was expecting. Well, I clearly was expecting the words, but not that level of emotion. ‘I’ve done 650 years of therapy – of course I’ll be fine’. Looks like I’ll be up to 651 years soon

This first draft will most likely bear very little resemblance to the final version, thank fuck. Because it’s pretty dark in a lot of places – inevitably including dark humour – but dark nonetheless. The words kept pouring out, I tried a number of times to divert, shift focus, but I always returned to the underlying emotions and drivers.

I was expecting it for the ‘My Poxy Childhood’ section – my fond working title – but I was surprised when it came through in pretty much everything else. From work, to country moves, to marriages, to pretty much all the numerous life events.

I had about 2 weeks of being totally lost in it – I can absolutely see now why I haven’t written this up until now. I never had the space, mentally or physically, to get these words down and more importantly, process each time I did.

It’s not a dumping ground, it’s not about me spewing out everything that had happened and treating the writing like a confessional. Because I have done plenty of that in hundreds of different therapeutic sessions over the years, and have no need or desire to do so for a public audience.

And this is where the processing each day came in. I wrote every day, often for not more than 2-3 hours and then processed for the rest of the time. While getting on with day to day life, as opposed to sitting on the side of mountain gazing at my navel.

At more than one point I was wondering who the fuck would ever want to read this. The intensity is stunning. Real and gut wrenchingly honest, but a lot. Then I realised that this will underpin the stories, this will show the depth behind each major event, outline the why. But will not comprise the entirety of the book.

I was told by a number of people that you need to dig deep, you need to really get to what the core is, the why. When I dig deep, I go deeper again. And then some more for good measure. I do ridiculous honesty. And I know that when I do that, it resonates with others – it’s how I connect with people and how they connect with me.

It’s where I am at my most real and it’s where I make a difference. It’s also where I see the ridiculous, where I right size whatever is happening in life and where I prioritise the important things, not the bullshit.

And it’s where I make some people uncomfortable. If you are going to reach that deep into yourself and lift the rocks that hide the dark, icky parts of yourself, you develop a clearer vision of life. Some dislike clarity, they like to keep the rocks firmly in place are invested in keeping it blurred, covering up, avoidance.

And ultimately, fuck it. My life motto. Wading through the mud and the dark provides an incredible freedom. A hard won freedom, but then I don’t think it ever comes easy.

I can’t wait to get to the next draft, where I can talk more about the freedom and the joy, about the laughter and the love. It all co-exists – a friend of mine used to say ‘The darker the dark, the lighter the light’. It took me years to understand that fully, but it’s so bloody true.