My wings.

‘Perhaps the butterfly is proof that you can go through a great deal of darkness yet still become something beautiful.’ – Beau Taplin

After all the loss and grief I’ve experienced over the last year, my life feels as if it’s filled with gaping holes from what was, or was meant to be. I’m sat in this life that’s filled with holes, thinking “What next?”. I described myself as a pair of fishnet tights; filled with holes, but some how still managing to keep it together. However, I don’t think I’m doing it quite as stylishly as a pair of tights!

While talking to my therapist I discovered that each loss has taken a part of myself with it, and I’ve ended up building a giant wall all around myself to protect myself from anymore pain. I’m just sat within this sparse looking castle on my own. I’m wanting to get out, but it’s safe in here and I’m too scared to even climb up and peek over the wall to see what is on the other side.

For a while now I’ve been okay sat on the floor, just wondering, but now I’m getting to the point where I kind of want to know what’s waiting for me.

My therapist challenged me to think about what might be on the other side, or what I want to be on the other side and as usual, I’m stuck feeling as I’m in being torn in two different directions: whatever is waiting for me could be great! OR of course, it could be horrible.

I’m not sure if I’m ready to find out, but it’s interesting to think about.

My career as a counsellor is over. What career do I want next?
My friendship with my best friend is over. So are there other friends waiting for me?
I lost my baby girl. Is there another baby waiting to arrive over there?

It feels kind of suffocating to think about. But it feels equally suffocating sat within these walls.

My life has felt so predictable for so long. I decided I wanted to be a counsellor when I was around fifteen, I’ve wanted to be a mother since I used to play with my baby dolls and a small child, and I’ve been best friends with the same girl since I was nine. Now it’s all either gone and left me scarred.

It’s like life’s beaten me up and left me for dead.
Everyone’s shouting at me “stay with us, you can make it.” Which makes me wonder what’s beyond the walls, but I’m not sure if I have the energy to stand up from my slumber and find out just yet.

I remember on our last weekend workshop on the counselling foundation degree, the tutors had spread toys out across the floor for us to see what we identified with, in relation to the course coming to an end.

I chose a butterfly, because I didn’t know where I was going next. I wanted to flutter around and land on what ever I fancied and give it a go; see what happens and see what it feels like to do different things.

I still feel like that butterfly moment is coming, and these castle walls are my safe cocoon. I’m growing the wings to go on my adventure, but I don’t think they’re ready just yet.

Beyond the wall I hope to find a career in writing, I see a published version of my book with a pretty cover and my name at the bottom. My friends are waiting for me, ready for a natter and a cuppa, and I see a baby wrapped in a cosy blanket waiting to be transferred to my arms.

I can see it all, and it’s all what I am dying for, but I can’t help but worry it’s all a mirage.

When my wings are ready, I’ll flutter up to the top of the wall and I’ll see what awaits. But until then I’ll stay in my cocoon and save up my energy.

It’s safe in here.