I’m about to do something scary.

Very, very scary.

I’m about to start putting myself first.

I know, I know. What is this crazy self-care thing? Perhaps I’m being selfish. Maybe I’ve just lost my mind. But maybe I’m regaining my soul.

Old, old pattern

I’ve been living this pattern for 8 long years. It controls everything I do, every choice I make. It’s what motivates me more than anything else.

It’s a belief about myself, who I am, and what I mean to the world and those who love me.

I am a burden.

That’s what I inherently believe about myself. That I’m a burden to others, that I get in the way, that I’m annoying, a nuisance. It’s nigh on impossible to biggify yourself and grow your business or your art when you feel like you’re in the way. Your only goal is to try and make yourself as small as possible.

It’s frustrating. I exasperate myself with my inane need to not be noticed. Yet I’m a naturally exuberant person, passionate, loud and with a tendency towards snark. In my own skin, I’m the furthest thing from a wallflower, yet it’s the mold I force myself into on a daily basis.

Shedding

I’ve been releasing this pattern over the last few days. Processing it, and sitting with it. Letting it just be there and noticing where it shows up. The noticing is starting to let it go, but it’s accompanied by a deep, deep sadness.

I’ve often felt like my soul has been dyed blue, dipped in azure and stained. I think there are parts of me that will always be sad. It’s something I’ve accepted about myself, without hating it. I can better feel the light and the warmth because I’ve spent so long in the dark and the cold.

I don’t think that you can go through trauma or loss without it permanently altering the landscape of your soul. There are parts of me that in silence, will always be sad. I’ve lost parts of me over the years. I’ve let people damage me, wound me. I don’t think that I can erase those scars.

I don’t think that I want to.

Releasing

I’ve been crying a lot the past few days. I’ve had moments of immense joy and intense sadness. A space is opening up inside, but there’s a closing off as well. I’m sealing certain doors off, never to be opened again.

For 8 years I’ve been carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. For 8 years, I’ve been carrying around the emotional baggage of not only myself, but my entire family as well.

I’ve been punishing myself with guilt, shame and a veritable panoply of other emotions. Lots of self hate, and ignorance of my own truths and values.

The Disappearing Sarah

Three years ago, I weighed in at 90 lbs. I’m 5’7″. My ribs were starting to stick out and my hips were sharp points above my jeans. My prom dress was a size 00 and I could barely keep it on. I was lost in it. If the top hadn’t had corset-like boning, it never would have stayed up.

I was miserable. I wanted to eat, but couldn’t. I woke up every single day in a state of incredible fear that made my stomach roll and refuse food. I was in the death throes of my relationship with the abusive ex and venom was being sent to my inbox almost every day. I didn’t know what to do. I had lost my way.

Furthermore, my life had collapsed. The CFS was determined permanent, and I was still barely able to leave the house. I was deeply depressed, unable to even picture my life with these new definitions and parameters. I felt like I’d been given a life sentence.

I felt like a burden. Not only was I sick, but I was depressed and it seemed as though my life now meant nothing. I couldn’t stop crying. I was so full of guilt and shame about being sick and more guilt and shame about being depressed that I could barely function. I was a ghost. And as my ex so tenderly put it, “I already have to put up with you being sick, you should just be a perfect to make up for it. Never sad, never angry, nothing at all. Just perfectly happy. Then it wouldn’t be so hard to be with you.”

This is not something I usually talk about

I very nearly killed myself at that time. In fact, it will be three years this Saturday. It was the day after my 18th birthday, and consumed with guilt and shame, I seriously considered ending my life so that I wouldn’t be a burden to my family any longer. Fortunately, I decided to live because I figured that I’d be more of a burden dead.

Looking back now, that’s kind of sad.

For three years, I haven’t been alive for me. I’ve tried to move on, to change my life, to make a difference in the world, but I made a choice that day that has never been reversed – I chose to be alive for other people. I decided that I would just trundle along, not really succeeding, just keeping my head above water so as not to be too in the way, too dependent. I decided that I would have just enough.

Chubby Sarah

As I’ve learned to listen to myself again and to allow myself space in the world, I have quite literally put on weight. This is a good thing. I’m still only an itty bitty 114lbs on a “I’ve eaten pasta for every meal, even breakfast” day, but this is a weight that’s natural for me. I’m a delicately-built person, and I’m okay with that. But it’s nice to finally be filling out to my normal weight.

So as I let go of all of these old patterns and beliefs, new ones are going to start replacing them. Healthy ones – ones that I’ve chosen because they nourish me and my soul. This is about shifting my entire life in a massively huge way.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell you how I’m doing it.