I feel like I’m unraveling.
The stitches that help keep me together are loosening, making my edges frayed and my soul fragile and exposed.
I know I spot this unraveling much sooner than I used to. I spot when something is pulling me apart, threatening the seams that keep me together.
There are situations I avoid to protect myself – these are often the same situations that have ripped me.
As I try to pull myself back together, I feel things all over again. Anger. Sadness. Guilt. Failure.
I shout, cry, self harm… and then the calm comes.
It wraps its arms around me and allows me to cry.
I usually ball up, hold my face in my hands, bitten nails in my mouth, scratching at where ever my hand lands.
Today I opened my arms to comfort though. It sounds metaphorical but it was literal. As I was held, I let myself be comforted. I lent into someone holding me. Someone that will help to stitch me back up.
I put my arms around him and realise I have never done this in my deepest moments of unease.
I recall children crying. When held in comfort, they tend to hold on. When did I stop doing this? When, in the moments that I need someone the most, did I instinctively curl up against the world, and not let anyone in?
In pulling myself back together, with help, I’ve realised the fabric of my life must change.
I know I’ll falter, I’ll hurt and at time I’ll fail. But at those worst moments I will open my arms to help and love. And they will be the new stitches that hold me together.
I’m not alone. And I have to remember that.