Wednesday, 20 May 2015

Fragile.

I think sometimes I come across as more fragile than I probably am, both in person and on here. Some of that is down to the topics I tend to bring forward- it's messy stuff, it's personal stuff and you know what? My voice wobbles when I talk about some of it. I hate that. I hate that I can't tell you my story whilst sounding, I don't know, more detached. Sometimes I hate that I can't just be more detached, full stop. But that wouldn't be real and I'd be doing myself an injustice, because it's mine. It's my wobble. I've never actually cried whilst publicly speaking, but I cry literally every time I watch 16 and Pregnant. I've actually had to ban myself from it, because it makes me dehydrated. So maybe I am detached, maybe I'm holding back. Maybe I just really like babies.

I'm sure I seem fragile on your screen, too. You can't hear the wobble my voice sometimes takes, but you can read the things that there isn't a forum to say aloud. You can read about my weaknesses, but maybe not my strengths. Maybe you don't know the simple things about who I am, rather than my diagnoses. I hope you know that I am more than this, that I'm not fragile. That I like owls and sewing and I'm convinced I will write a book, but that I haven't got as far as even working out if I'm a fact or fiction type of a writer (given that all I've written since I was 16 is this blog and essays, I'm probably more of a factual writer, but sometimes I want to escape). I hope you know that I have horrible dress sense, that I fall over my feet constantly and that I am the worst dancer going, but I'm convinced I can do anything shown on Dance Moms... but that I gave myself a nose bleed last time I attempted to. I own too many notebooks that are empty because I don't want to ruin them. Sometimes I want to bathe in words, but that I can go a week without washing my hair (beauty of curls). I have a really common accent and sound vaguely illiterate, until I start speaking politics, and then I end up with a BBC accent. I have 2/3 of a politics degree, but on paper I just spent a few years getting hammered and racking up debt.

And I'm really, really bloody strong.

My point here is that I'm not fragile. I'm more than my medical folder. I won't try to kill myself over you. Saying no to me is no different from saying no anybody else, I promise. I mean, I'm better at sticking up for others than I am myself, and it's gotten me decked a few times, but I don't really care. I can take more than you know, because I've had to take more than you know. Discovering that I'm not made of glass was a strange experience, but a real one. Discovering that everything I had to face had not actually made me weaker was a revelation. Discovering that I don't think that stuff happens for a reason, went against what I wanted to believe and the power I thought I had. But discovering that bad experiences don't necessarily make you stronger; shit happens and how you deal with it is about the only way you can control the situation and make a future made me feel less of a victim. For a while, I maybe was made of a thin layer of glass, but now I'm reinforced. I'm bullet proof. I'm ok.

2 comments:

  1. Rebecca, I love that you are bullet proof... I actually knew you were strong by overcoming and living with much more than I am aware of... I despise when people say things happen for a reason... maybe some things but not all things... that and the other thing about what doesn't kill you makes you stronger... I too am not made of glass but hearing that sometimes makes me want to throw some glass...

    I do believe what makes us stronger is how we deal with the good and bad that happens... I am aways in awe of you for how you rise above what you have dealt with... most people wouldn't xox

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  2. I've read your posts for quite some time now and 'fragile' is definitely not a word I would use to describe you, quite the contrary. You are definitely bullet proof from what I can gather! Xxx

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