I don’t know what to say

Sometimes I don’t know what to say. The reasons I speak are many and complicated.

I can talk, it’s partly a family trait, ask my Mum?

She is firmly of the belief it comes from my Dad’s side of the family. They appear to be able to hold several conversations at once, can be interrupted, not really listened to, engage in others conversations with little comments and quips while holding forth themselves, and, they can monoluge for hours if given the chance.

I have this gene, and could surely compete at a high level in the chatting competitions, but sometimes I just don’t know what to say.

I want to share my story of recovery from CFS/ME, I want to be honest and open and tell it like it is and yet sometimes something holds me back. Perhaps I’m too tired to contemplate it, too brain fogged to think clearly, too in the struggle to explain it and there’s something else.

I don’t want to moan, and go on about some of the realities of this crazy making condition it’s too easy for me to fall into the poor me’s trying to get you to understand it, to believe me, to convince you it’s real.

Why does this happen?

There are a myriad of complicated reasons why. I sometimes don’t get it myself, I don’t accept my is happening to me, I struggle to believe it is really and I transfer that out there onto you.

Then there is the actual reality of the some attitudes that still prevail whereby it is not understood and aknowledged. So long as we look ok we must be ok. Because when you see me I’m reasonably ok, I must always be ok. It’s just not true. Of course I look ok then, because that is when things are going well, I am up and oot and aboot ( as we might say in Scotland), this is what is seen, the rest is hidden.

I suspect though might be struggling to speak becuase I’m angry.

Who at?……………… You who cannot understand what it’s like unless you’ve experienced it………..not really.

At myself for not accepting how I am?………………… Possibly.

At life for dishing me this one?…………………………. Maybe.

Or perhaps I’m annoyed with myself for still seeking external validation for how I am, still looking out there for information about who and how I am, looking to be accepted and acceptable so I can feel ok about being ME. I’m hesitant about what to say because I don’t trust my motives, where I might go, what story I might tell.

I don’t want to be like this any more and my intention is to grow beyond this pattern, to strengthen my internal references, to trust my self more, to check within, to deeply listen to my heart and spirit and have the courage to stick with that.

Ever onwards, and inwards and yet out beyond it all, I go.

Coming, it’s nice to have company on the road?