peace

Help me if you can…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

The wonderful Erin Hattamer has devised a way for people who use social media to help families in Gaza. She has been doing incredible work for the Palestinian people and she is is also incredibly funny, go give her a follow. I have volunteered to ‘adopt’ a family in Gaza and I need your help.

This is how it works, volunteers are paired with families who require help and we share their stories in the hopes of raising funds to get them to safety. I have been paired with Dema. Dema is 19yrs old, she & her family are stuck in Rafah. Dema, her parents, Ghadeer & Nidal and her brothers, Hani & Muhammad are living in a tent. They have no money nor do they have access to safe food & water. They have been displaced multiple times already. Ghadeer has suffered a stroke & Hani has been exposed to hepatitis via unclean water. They desperately need our help to get to safety & access medical treatment.

Their plan is to first get Ghadeer to safety, followed by Hani as they both require medical treatment. Then finally Dema, Nidal & Muhammad. In order to achieve this they need funds. This is just an ordinary family who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances by events beyond their control. Try to imagine how your family would survive in their situation.

The good news is that we can help. If you are able, please make a donation to the Go Fund Me linked blow. If you are unable to donate, you can still help. I will be making videos & posts across my social media sharing Dema’s story. The more people we can make aware of their plight, the higher the chances of them reaching their target. Every share and every penny counts.

Help Dema & her family reach safety.

Blue Christmas…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I love Christmas. The focus on giving and spending time with loved ones is special. I like the way it makes strangers wish each other merry. It warms my heart to see little ones really believing in the magic of Santa Claus. Tis the season, right?

Well, yes and also a little bit no. The last few weeks have been a whirl of wrapping gifts, singing carols with excited little people, twinkly lights & festive fun. I have adored every minute of it. However, now that all the presents are delivered and prep is completed I feel a tad blue. This always happens. I needed a rest day before the main event, but as soon as I slow down it hits.

My siblings and friends are having cosy days at home with their families. My Christmas nest is empty. I can’t help but think of what could have been. All traditions I wanted to pass on; opening just one present on Xmas eve, fuzzy red stockings with their names in gold, snuggling with Santa hyped darlings as we read a new festive bed time story. Then the frantic readying of gifts whilst my babies sleep. Santa presents wouldn’t be wrapped in my house; just lain out beautifully in the living room. Ready to be enjoyed the second they wake. There wouldn’t be any Christmas morning rules. Rising before dawn, chocolate for breakfast, all out Christmas chaos would be just fine. There’s an unsung seasonal opera in my head.

I know I’m very lucky. Tomorrow I will be with family. Exchanging gifts and clinking glasses. I’ll watch my nephew tear open his gifts and be loaded with big loving squeezes. I’m safe, warm & loved. That is a lot to be grateful for. There’s still hint of sorrow for the dreams that didn’t come to pass.

I know I’m not alone in being touched by sadness at this time of year. If you’re struggling this year, I’m sending love. If joy is out reach I hope you can find some peace.

Those who trespass against us…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Were you taught to forgive & forget? I think forgiveness is a virtue that most children are encouraged to embrace. If like me you went to a Catholic (or any domination) school you likely had whole lessons on it. Parables, examples of Jesus forgiving all sorts of bad behaviour and even the big man himself wiping the slate clean a plenty. Forgiveness was a given.

White stone with words ‘I forgive you’ lying on sand

That all feels fairly reasonable as a kid. I bought into forgiveness being the decent thing. Then of course you get older. The stakes get a little higher. The religious teaching no longer hold sway and the concept of forgiving becomes very different. It is much harder to offer absolution to people who do terrible things & cause real harm. It gets complicated. Do we forgive people who never genuinely apologise? What about those who repeat the bad? And what about the whole forgetting part? Is it wise to wipe our memories of knowledge that may well protect us in the future?

Then there are the people who will tell you that forgiveness is solely about you. You forgive the trespasses, no matter how bad because it’s how you heal. Not forgiving is carrying the toxicity with you. Many times I hear supposedly wise folk advise that forgiving someone doesn’t mean what they did was ok. We do it for our own health. We can forgive and walk away. The key to our own peace is in the forgiveness.

None of that has ever made sense to me. If you remove the ‘what would Jesus do’ element (which I very much do), surely we offer pardons voluntarily? If we don’t feel remotely forgiving, why should we force it? To me, forgiveness is a two person activity. First of all, someone has to be sorry to even qualify. Secondly, they have to actually take steps to do better. Without these factors forgiveness is meaningless.

I don’t buy the forgiveness is for me spin either. It’s entirely possible to remove someone from your life without forgiving them. A person can move on without forgiving. People who hurt us don’t necessarily have to play a part in our healing journey. They don’t have to factor in our future lives at all. I do not believe that forcing myself to absolve a person I do not consider deserving of that mercy will bring anyone peace. If it feels right, it’s probably right. On the other hand, there are things in life that are unforgivable. That’s ok.

You don’t need my (or anyone else’s) permission, but if no one else has ever said it, please know you do not have to forgive. You can carry on, fix anything that person damaged, learn whatever lessons the issue presents and live a lovely life. I’ve done it. I have judged the actions of someone I once loved unforgivable. I won’t ever forgive that person. They did a heinous thing. They never offered me a satisfactory apology. Never made any effort to correct their behaviour. My refusal to discharge their wrongs hasn’t hampered me in any way. I removed them from my life. I had therapy. I had time. I took note of the signs I missed, the acts I accepted and I moved on. I don’t feel anything at all about that person now. I rarely think of them. When they occasionally come up in conjunction with other things I am unbothered. I’m good.

View of sea and cliffs off mull

Forgiveness is optional. It can’t be demanded or guilted from you. Choosing not to forgive is valid. It won’t make you bitter or stunt your healing. You are allowed to build a healthy and happy life on your terms. Never mind JC. Ask yourself what you want and do that.

If you enjoy my writing you can support me here or on Patreon.

My sign is vital, my hands are cold…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

CW: Self Harm

Lately I’ve been having regular checks for the heart rate thing. The nurse who took my blood & vitals last week was really familiar. I had that strange I’ve definitely met you feeling, but also knew I didn’t know her, know her. I couldn’t place her at all until a loud clatter startled her. Her sharp intake of breathe shot me back in time.

She was the nurse I stunned with my self destruction in this same hospital many years ago. She either didn’t recognise me or correctly judged it best not to indicate that she had. She was friendly & kind, but the sound of that inhale shook me. I was back there, covered in blood & guilt.

I can so clearly remember walking into that triage room. Concisely explaining why I was there & seeing the doubt in her eyes. I could tell she thought the large towel on my arm was overkill. I knew she was weighing up how to nicely dismiss me. I was too tired to do anything other than unwrap the makeshift dressing & expose the truth.

Foggy picture of cars outside hospital. Words ambulance only painted on ground

The inner layers were blood soaked & the final one stuck to the wound. When I yanked it off with same the lack of self care that had led me to that room, she gasped. An entirely involuntary expression of what; shock? disgust? fear? I couldn’t discern, but I knew it wasn’t good.

The speed that she whipped through the triage routine was more about her discomfort than mine. I had long lost my objectivity. I sought treatment as a means of calling a halt to that cut. I had given up seeking enough. I knew that enough was a lie. When I looked at my arm I really couldn’t tell anymore if it was any worse than anything else I had done to myself. It was just another failed attempt to carve out some peace.

Peace that I knew was never coming. I already felt stupid & ashamed & so horribly guilty. For all the usual reasons and now also because it was obvious I had ruined this women’s night. She hadn’t bargained for my level of determined self loathing; I’d upset her. I felt selfish for not being more clear. I shouldn’t have allowed anyone to be caught off guard.

I wanted to be better. Do better. I wished I could give this nurse & everyone else the explanation they needed. I yearned to be somewhere else. I didn’t even want to do this anymore. My blades had long since lost efficacy. I could never cut deep enough. Never shed enough blood. The quiet I needed was evermore elusive. I was desperate and so fucking tired. Yet, I still couldn’t stop.

As I waited for her to finish with my blood pressure I was stuck in the past. Mired in the dread. Reliving the experience of having my arm stapled shut whilst already planning the next assault. Knowing I couldn’t escape the nagging voice in my head that insisted I must cut. I must earn any rest. I had to atone for sins I wasn’t able to articulate. I had to release all the fetid emotion with my blood.

When I left I felt blessed. And cursed. Blessed that I was wrong. I did escape. I have hushed that internal need for penance. Cursed because I still haven’t silenced it. There will always be triggers pulling me back. Days when my scars itch to be opened. You can’t play with fire & not get burned. The magic is remembering I know how to make it stop. I just have to wake up every day and choose this new, better life. Easy, right?

Black and white photo oh plus size woman looking at scarred arm

If you enjoy my writing you can support me here or on Patreon