Thursday, 7 April 2016

Aquatic Metaphors and Bad Phone Calls.

In general terms, I'm not one to favour myself as being described as a victim or as to have suffered in any sense. My life as some will know, certainly hasn't been as one may say, a walk in the park. Although often in situations, I haven't made it easy for myself nor have I taken simpler routes that would have a guaranteed positive ending.
However, I have had many negative life experiences at the hands of others and other entities, if you will, that I have had little to no control over.
I find the term victim, in correlation to my own being, offensive, as with the term suffering, that it weakens you and you almost lose any dominance of a situation that you may still be grasping to.
If you search for synonyms of the word, what you will find is not only 'casualty,' and 'sufferer,' but also 'pushover,' and 'sucker.' I refuse to be any of those things.
I'm not a fan of people who victimise themselves intentionally, its a form of self pity and attention seeking that I cannot welcome as a favourable behaviour. I've witnessed those behaviours becoming all consuming not just of the person, but the people around them. A continuous draining of mental resources that could be used in a more pro-active way that helps you move forward, which in turn further enables you to learn strengths that you didn't know you were capable of. It's actually quite enlightening when you get over the initial hurdles.
The easy way out of a situation originally always seems to be to give up and wallow in the misery, unable to foresee a future where they will feel any better. Unable to see that every single day, and every hour you are awake, circumstances change. I always promise myself when I'm struggling to come to terms with something, that I will not allow myself to be in this same place that time the following year. It's easy to say that though, I understand how it really feels to not be able to see a way out. That thats it, life's done. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone, not even the ones that have wronged me in the most extreme and malevolent ways.
Today I was travelling back to London from spending a great week in Somerset with my friends and family, a time that for once stood still and I didn't have to worry about what would happen day to day, and I didn't have to worry about what kind of passive aggressive email I'd receive, (out of office and turning notifications off are great features.) All I did was spend my time with my beautiful daughter, the longest period of time I've had with her since Christmas, and enjoy life.
On said journey, I received a phone call, and in that moment it was as if time stood still for a different reason. I couldn't see forward.
I always knew that there was a strong possibility of that phone call, but id put all the meagre hope I had left for retribution into not receiving it. I cried, on a train full of people, something I really avoid at all costs as it draws attention to yourself even when you're trying very fucking hard for nobody to notice. Numb is an adequate way to describe how I felt, all my senses seemed to lay dormant as I grappled to hold my mind together. You get over it though, that moment when you've stopped crying and you take a second to breathe, those big black clouds start clearing, and although you may not have any more clarification of the situation that you had ten minutes prior, but you almost know the worst is over.
It will hit you again, when you least expect it. It will over power you, and it will keep happening, and every time it happens it doesn't last as long, and it continues getting shorter and shorter until one day it stops and you almost miss it. To get through those waves you have to swim through, even though it sounds like a cliché, if you stop swimming, and it wraps you up, you drown.
The mind and the ocean are quite similar if you think about it, unpredictable and for the best part, unknown. Im sure theres more metaphors that are better suited and feature the sea but that will do for now.
My waves aren't going to stop for a long time, like a continuous drip of a broken faucet, sometimes the flow gets stronger and then its back to dripping. A relentless force of water until someone fixes the framework. Another water based metaphor.
You persevere though, if you can't change something, move on. If you can change it, do it. Everything always seems harder in the beginning, and like myself today, you may not get the ending you were hoping for, but at least you tried. The regret of not trying isn't worth the energy. Tomorrow's another day.

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