When I Made A Molehill Out of A Mountain

A couple of weeks ago, on a Sundayย M and I climbed Hanging Rock. After some off the beaten track exploring and near deaths, we sat at the highest point. I stretched my eyes over the horizon. God, it was stunning day. I tried to breathe it all in but my breath got stuck.

I tried again and failed again. M, being my soul sisterย pre-empted what was coming before I did. She gently slipped her arm around me. She knew. I was experiencing the start of a panic attack. As I gasped for air, myย tears started to escape me. Her grip around me just grew stronger. The harder I sobbed, the tighter M’s grip became. She knew.

I was painfully unhappy. I had been for a while.ย I was exhausted. I was disappointed. I was so fucking angry at myself for making mistakes. I was over-fucking-whelmed. I had not been dealing with it well at all. I hated myself for not dealing with it well. I had stopped crying about it. In fact, I’d ceased all conversations aboutย how shit I was feelingย because feeling like shit is just shit.ย Ignorance and self neglect was obviously not working for me.

And right there, on top of a carefully balanced boulder, my unhappiness was happy to surface.

Two weeks later, I pin point this floodgates moment as a metaphor for the next phase of my life. Setting my unhappiness free.ย Befriending it. Sitting with it, listening to it. Learning and seeking ways to address it. In turn, learning and seeking more about me.

I’m committing this space to document the organic process.

I’m usingย my unhappiness as a catalyst to make me happy!

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