Monday, April 30, 2018

Communicating vulnerably

I’d like to share more of myself; more of the real life that goes on under the surface.
Things weren't great at my end... 
Sure enough, I am writing this after glimpsing a little light at the end of a tunnel today at last. However, I had been contemplating to share already in the midst of all that frickin' despair that came over me this week. Sharing during real-time hardships is still a very vulnerable spot for me!

I undertook an insightful course on communication the last weekend in Sydney. 
What I learned changes everything! 
Yes, we humans suck at communication, and I dare to say that all my past and present problems were/are based on misunderstandings and the lack of sincere communication - sharing where one's coming from.

Sounds simple but... let's put it into practice:

I called my mum... I just dialed the phone number (In the end it cost me $120 AUD, shocking, but... who cares, a ticket back home is 15x as much!)

"Hey mum... I would like to apologize for neglecting you all those years and not sharing my life with you. I'd like to let you know that it was not your fault, you have not failed as a mother, it was me. I was stuck in the past, afraid of your judgment and punishing you by isolating myself and keeping everything a top secret. I love you, always have.." And so it goes... I'm changing my approach. My strategy for self-protection, if not self-defense, my withholding... no one needs that crap.

My mum doesn't need to know 'details'. She deserves facts, as per the above.
I am not helping anyone by withdrawing myself and always - always - pretending that I've got my shit together. That is why I love asking about other people's lives first. I submerge in their drama so my turn wouldn't get to come.  Please, don't pass me the ball by asking - "And how have you been?" Coz I'd say: "Good".
It became such a habit that I started to believe no one cared. I would wave off my worries in front of others and drink wine at home, feeling like a fraud. Just NEVER ever ask for help, Pavlina, just don't ask for anything - You got this! And another glass would follow.

The only person (apart from my sister) with whom I've been real the whole time, a stranger to whom I strangely trusted right away when I first met him in 2016 - is RALF.  It's not his real name, so let's stick with R. And I mean super-honest, raw, fucked up and sharing my life in an authentic way - even if just through passing on a link to this blog.
On the evening that I met him, I already felt like it was too late to show him 'perfection'; therefore, I hadn't even started.

Why are we being real only when there's nothing to lose?

I fear losing people's trust; them believing in me. I fear that showing my weaknesses makes me a pathetic mentor.

Yet, the truth is: I’ve been struggling in possibly every area of my life ever since entering Australia. 
I am overcoming my own obstacles and I qualify to help those who are not - but not sharing my present sadness seems to lead a bad example.
This is my time to be fearlessly vulnerable.

Being unable to get over my ex's abandoning me for so long, damaged my willpower. But why am I still caught up in the story of a lonely girl? What I really don't know is why he still crosses my mind here and there and why it still hurts that he wasn't the guy who delivered and made love look real! 

The reasons for not letting him go spiritually could be a soul-tie, a curse, or going through all those love and work transitions all alone in his homeland. It’s not been easy living so far from my family and my best friends. IT SUCKS. 
Sometimes I think that if I had savings, I would give up whatever I have been chasing over here and go. One way ticket.

That's how lonely I feel.

One of my best friends (E.) got married last weekend on the Greek islands and I couldn’t even be there with her. If life was easy and simple, I would fly there for the wedding and back in a couple of weeks; if life was even easier and simpler, I'd probably already have a holiday home there with a helicopter pad (which I wouldn't use for my arrival from down under.) 
Not hugging her on her important day brings tears to my eyes and makes me feel sorry.

Sorry for the fact that I chose to leave home and follow 'love', when love has turned its back on me. 
Sorry to admit that two years in I still haven't made it here. I am not a successful 'entrepreneur', I don't want a 'normal' job, neither I got married. I am more likely just a woman in her best years... wasting them.

I miss E., I miss my other best friend O., my sister and my mum.
I've been living abroad since the age of 18 and I would never quite miss anything from back at home.

This time is so different. I miss my Uni years when truly bonding with my classmates, earning a good income and being a part of a loving community.  I’ve been missing people like crazy ever since.

I don’t even care that I got chubby whilst looking after little kids. We all had a blast gorging on biscuits, toasts with peanut butter, vegemite and honey and all that other stuff one shouldn’t have, apparently. 

Nevertheless, ever since finding out that I couldn't transfer between campuses and thus, I flee Sydney earlier (more on that later), I moved to Matt's place. I feel more empowered and motivated when independent, close to a gym and in charge of my own routine. I think I already lost 2 kilos!
Matt is a guy who gave me a ride some time in August-September and I couldn't get rid of him since. He found me the Tropical commune which brought me many backpacking friends. I got saved by a man once again! 
His wit is one of a kind. Not only he cracks me up but he also gives me a slap on the cheek with his courageous opinions. [about me]. I wonder where he takes the assurance that I won't shoot him for those one day!
But he is right, It's time to see my life as an adventure and be grateful again- for fuck's sake!

Matt doesn't live here, but others do. The rent is cheap and the place is in the center of Darwin's CBD. It is filthy but I actually want to clean... I need to find work that would distract me from myself - fast.

It's been a few days without wine, coffee, sugar, and not moving... so I want to stress that I AM implementing my own medicine. I recognized the signs of a mild depression (that could have been seasonal) so it is time to shine the light on those gaps. Writing 'Transitioning' helped me see that my sensitive personality is a blessing. The book also serves as a constant reminder that I ought to work hard on picking myself up each time I fall. We all do. Wallowing in pain or ending it in fatal and selfish ways are for weaklings and losers.

Today's weather brightened my mood. The dry season has arrived! My hair will stay straight-to-wavy, we won't need to use the aircon, and there might be lively backpackers around again. Who cares that I'll be stuck in Darwin for at least one more term when we've got the Mindil beach markets back on!

My SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) has officially ended.

--> Oops I did it again, waved off my worries like if they were not happening!

Thank you, my reader, for bearing a witness to my vulnerability...

P.S.: S
ome fears give us a nudge in the right direction - we need to do this now, otherwise, an opportunity for growth would pass us by...
Likewise, I know that I need to push through the fear that subtly excites me - gives me butterflies in the stomach; but some 'fear' is, in fact, an intuition. It tells us that we are not to do it. That fear is like an unsure 'Nah...'

Sydney was that for me, that Nah, I don't feel it...
Never say never, but - not yet.

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