The Essay : r o a d b l o c k s . . .
. . . uncovering ME . . .
. . . roadblocks . . .
The Essay : roadblocks …
All my life I’ve been determined.
As a young child, determined to stay up late and not miss out on anything.
As a teenager, determined to not be like my mother, determined to get away from her, as far away as possible. And I did.
As soon as possible I left England, for France, and although it wasn’t a bed of roses it was the best thing and the best time of my life. However, it ended in tragedy with my very young and innocent seventeen year old self being raped by someone who was meant to help me (this is another story to tell).
Having this happen to me kind of stopped me in my tracks and meant that I was very soon back in the UK, as alone as I had always been, as alone as if I was still in France far far away from my family, especially my mother. The mother I really now needed.
Along with the incident taking my innocence, the incident together with my return to England eroded my trust, dampened my fire and impacted my soul from that point on.
I would say that although having the relationship I had with my mother could have been one of my roadblocks, it wasn’t. Yet this was. This was my first roadblock that forever changed me. Making me work with myself to deal with it as best I could.
Back in England, unbeknown to myself at the time, I set out on a course of self destruction. I was a damaged young girl looking for her people and her place. The roadblock had set in motion a way of being that would continue throughout my life; an acceptance of poor treatment and an avoidance of reality.
As I write this I have to ponder. Can such a damaged way of being attract healthy and good. I think not and so to cut a long story, of six years, short I became pregnant and for my own and my baby’s safety I chose to be a single parent.
With experience, hindsight and insight, I now realise that all I had done was escape one abusive relationship, to a single incident of abuse, to another abuser.
Becoming, or choosing to be, a single parent was the beginning of uncovering me. Finding who I really was. Working out my strengths and weaknesses. It was the most difficult, yet most enlightening, journey so far and it lasted ten years. Me and my boy_1 worked with and through it. I was becoming determined again, a determined enlightened young woman who was finally finding herself and working all the roadblocks that came our way.
Until I met someone and started another chapter of negotiations as we, my now husband, endeavoured to blend two families (this too has to be another story).
I guess this is where I learned the most about roadblocks and how I could move through them, over them, or even around them, but nothing would stop me.
And then about five years ago, when in my early 50s, the illness I had suffered with and worked around since aged 24, became severe again and has stayed severe since. It had been severe once before for about 18 months, but that time I did eventually return back to moderate. However, this present relapse into severe looks like it’s here to stay, for now anyway.
I keep saying that, for now, don’t I? I guess still have hope that this roadblock will remove itself or that I will somehow manage to tackle my way through, over, or around, it.
This is the illness that is the roadblock I feel that I simply cannot find my way to go through, go over, or go round. No matter how much determination, money, effort or love I throw at it, I simply cannot overcome it.
This roadblock feels like it’s here to stay …
I guess it might be and now I have to work out how to negotiate it. I think now is the time to tackle this roadblock … and I guess in some small way I have already started. I made a start the day I decided to reopen my blog and to advocate and journal about this awful awful illness, the roadblock of all roadblocks … and I have continued by keeping the blog going and now starting the writing course despite getting sicker by the day.
… the end …
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