Just A Girl on mental health
I’ve always been a fixer. I’m brilliant at it. Which is a shame… because up until now, this amazing ability that I have to pick people up, straighten them out and get them back on track again never really applied when it was my own problems that needed to be dealt with.
The last few years have been hard for me. An incredible amount of shit landed in my general direction and it’s taken me a long, long time to claw my way out of the absolute madness and mess it caused me and begin to regain enough confidence to attempt to rebuild.
I currently live in a caravan – on a car park. In the arse-end of nowhere. It’s probably not everyones cup of tea, but it’s exactly what I need right now. I need to live in isolation while I get used to who I am these days….and here I have isolation and solitude in spades.
There are fields. Cows. Sheep. Badgers. Foxes, owls and mice. A multitude of fake widow spiders. Not much else.
I’m away from the stresses and drama of everyday life. No one comes to visit bar my trusted inner circle – the guys who saw the shit spectacularly hitting the fan and did what they could to protect me instead of turning their backs. Apart from that, I see work colleagues….the woman in the post office. Occasionally a bus driver.
Before all this happened I was a social girl. I liked to throw dinner parties, go to parties, frequent hotel bars with my husband or my friends. Drink wine, drink beer, drink Champagne…. Indulge in class A’s……. I used to thoroughly enjoy myself. I was the girl in the nice dresses and heels who turned heads, and who caused tongues to wag. Who thought she knew it all.
I didn’t know anything.
I know so much more now.
I know that my caravan is basically boot camp. It’s a test of my resolve. I spend 95% of my time alone. I have to keep myself occupied. Challenge myself. Stand on my own two feet again, without relying on alcohol or anyone else to ‘fix’ me.
Especially not a male anyone else.
Men are my kryptonite. Bad men especially. They have a special way of breaking through my firewall and fucking me up. So I’m staying away.
I’ve dated four men in the last eighteen months. All were, without exception, absolute fruit-loops. My heart has been broken more times than I care to mention.
So now it’s just me. Living in my green coated bubble, determined to build myself up and elevate myself high above all these shitty meaningless past relationships that in the big scheme of things gave me absolutely nothing apart from a shitload of mental scars and a world of complete and utter headfuck.
It ends now.
No more fixing people. Unless they look like me and have my name.
For the first time ever in my whole entire life, it really is a case of me before you…..