That’s how the light gets in

I’m about to post one of the scariest blog post I have ever posted here. Scary, because it’s honest, true & it leaves very little room to hide. I’ve been rereading my text a zillion times by now & I want to spend the rest of the evening perfecting it. But I know in doing that, I might take the heart & soul out of every word I wrote. And that while, after days of feeling slightly down & uninspired, I have finally been able to write down what I really feel. Or at least part of what I feel.
I dared my heart to speak its mind. And this is what my heart had to say;



Dear Psychologist,

It’s me. It’s been a while, I know. ‘I’m cured’ or whatever we might like to call it. And I’m fine. Don’t you worry. I’m fine. Most of the time.
We’ve worked hard together; you & I. I’ve come a long way since we first met. And even though, I did most of the work, I couldn’t have done it without you. And quite honestly, I miss you sometimes. I miss the conversations we had, miss that small office space where I allowed myself to be the rawest version of myself. And I miss the thoughtful guidance which you provided & which I so needed. You were the perfect audience for my long overdue heartfelt conversions, the ideal narrator for my life’s story. Because I was so lost when I ended up on your doorstep. Lost. Frightened & far too small for the enormity of the society we live in.

I’m not too sure whether I should be writing this. Right here. Should I? What will people think of me? Those few people who actually read this blog, they might find a different place to go. They might think I’m crazy for owning up to the fact that I’m unable to always make it on my own. Admit that at some point in time I was at my absolute wits end as to how to live this life. This incredibly complicated life, with all it’s beautiful & terrifying twists and turns. I understand that it might be silly to put you & our time together down in writing and send it off into the world. I might be judged, fingers might be pointed & heads might shake.
But I don’t want to care too much. I’m tired of feeling dishonest, tired of dancing around this subject with carefully chosen words. Because there are not a great number of things in life that I’m truly proud off, but admitting that I needed help & seeking out that help, is an exception to that rule. I was petrified the first time we met. Petrified as I sat down on that chair, about to venture off into undiscovered parts of my soul. Now, looking back, I understand that taking that step has been the bravest thing I have ever done. And on top of that, it’s also been the greatest gift I could have ever given myself. I see now, what I couldn’t see back then; that I, despite it all, still loved myself enough to give myself a second chance. A real, solid chance to be happy again. A chance to get to know myself better than I ever did before & a chance to learn how to life with the person I was always bound to become. And it has paid off. It really has.

Dear Psychologist, I think about you. Every now and then I do. And lately I think about you often. What if you could see me now, I wonder. What if you could see me right here. Lost. One step forward, two steps back. What if you could see me now?
I’m fine. Fine most of the time. But every now and then life throws things at me that I feel I just can’t handle. Things I simply can’t work out on my own. And then I wish I could turn to you one last time, to share my sorrow & find a way out of the mess I feel I’m in at times.
Sometimes there is war in my head, conflicts too complex to understand. Sometimes there are sides to choice & stands to take. Sometimes there is the fear of uncontrollable diseases, incurable & larger than life, which seem to seep into the safety of my world. I lay awake & try to remember the things we talked about & how you helped me to feel strong in the midst of feeling small & frightened.
I spend days trying not to worry about the world & all its craziness, try to convince myself that worrying won’t get me anywhere. I go outside & embrace life fiercely, understanding the importance of every single day that I’ve been giving.
And so, I pick myself up. Time & time again. And for a proud moment, I stand tall…..until life happens again. Until life twists, until life turns. And I left wondering whether we will all make it. Wondering how on earth we are ever going to be alright again.
And that’s when I think of you. Of you & that room. The safety of it. The strength it gave me. The things you taught me. The things I must have taught myself. But at times I can’t remember any of them & then I feel lost again.

Dear Psychologist, I’m alright. Believe me. I’m okay. Or at least I will be. And I’m proud. Sometimes. And I’m grateful for the journey we made. Always. I’m just struggling. These days. But I will be fine. Someday.


2 thoughts on “That’s how the light gets in

  1. Dear Sister, I do remember the day that you sat on the chair and told us you could not make it on your own any longer. I recall a fragile girl, afraid of so many things, realisct fears and unrealistic fears taking over your creative mind and being. I was so proud of you for speaking up, admitting that you needed help and that despite our willingness to help you, you were able to tell us that you needed an out-sider, some-one else to help you to figure ‘things’ out. And so you went to search for help…and you found it. And eventhough it wasn’t easy you kept going to see the psychologist and eventhough at times you cried more than you could believe was even possible and examined yourself and the world around you till your head and heart were sore, you kept on searching, thinking, healing, growning into the right direction. And you’re succeeding!
    Ofcourse at times you fall back, fall behind, feel like this world is unsafe and it;s problems to huge to ever solve….but you do get up again, stand tall and strong one day and a bit more shaky and hesistant the other. But truth is that you are moving forward…and you’re so totally different than you were back then: more everything, but above all braver , more beautiful and more alive. Your words and pictures on your blogs, the way you are able to see beauty in small things, the way you put love in everything you do and above all the fact that you do know that you do matter are proof of the wonderful person you are. Love you more than i am able to put in words.

  2. dearest brave Naomi, first of all I have to tell you, how much I love you. I’m telling it you a hundred times and I keep on telling it, because that’s what it is.
    All the words I wanted to write to you, are written already by Rebecca. And yes, I see and know that from time to time you’re struggling, but I also see and know, you are able to put yourself together again and you carry on. That strength is coming out of yourself with on the background the love and care from the ones around you, mostly your family.
    Keep on putting words on paper and share them with the world.
    You have that gift, don’t keep it to yourself!
    Thanks dearest Naomi, for sharing all this. Love you tooooooooo much!
    NB.: What about some flowers for your psychologist?

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