Talk

Hi, Hey, Hello!

I am not a very good talker.

I am so much better at just bottling shit up. I did it for years. I still do it. It will pretty much take for me to reach an actual breaking point of sorts before I am finally just like, wow I should really talk to someone about this.

I just don’t really like doing it.

It feels like whining to me.

I don’t even really know why, but whenever I do start talking about myself or whatever it is that is bothering me I just start thinking ‘wow I should really shut up I am being so self centred’. And a lot of the time I’m actually not. I am just getting something off my chest and clearing the air in my own head. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

In fact it’s rarely a bad thing.

Talking about it does help, and I know that it does, but for some reason there is still this barrier in my head that means that I don’t like doing it. It means putting myself out there and I do not like doing that. It stresses me out. It leaves me vulnerable. It means that for some strange reason I feel weak. Which makes literally no sense to anyone really, including myself. Because rationally I am very aware that admitting that you need help or just someone to open up to then it is not a weakness. It’s a strength. It’s okay to not be okay and I do know that.

But actually saying it out loud changes the damn game. In almost every way.

It’s that final barrier. There is no coming back from it once it’s been said out loud. And it’s that that kind of terrifies me in a lot of ways.

Having said all that however I mean I have talked about it. I had to do a lot of talking about it last year because I was driving myself insane and making myself actually unwell and I needed it to stop. So I talked about it and it felt like a weight had been lifted. One that continues to feel like it has been lifted whenever I find myself talking about it again. Not even so much talking, more like just admitting that I’m going through a little rough patch right now. Just not ignoring it and burying my head under the sand and pretending that everything is okay. Just actually saying ‘not really’ when someone asks if I’m alright and then just letting that be the answer and accepting it. It feels really damn great. And it continues to feel great.

And I wouldn’t have got to this stage if I hadn’t taken my mental health seriously last year and fully accepted that I had reached my damn breaking point with it all.

Is it annoying that I had to get to that almost rock bottom stage first? Yes. Am I glad it happened though? Also yes.

It led me to accepting that sometimes you just nee to talk it out and as such I have now gotten a lot better at doing so.

Parentheses count: 0. See you tomorrow!

 

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Published by

Sophie

Sophie, twenty-something, avid reader, writer, really good at watching whole seasons of TV shows in one weekend and using 10 words where 5 will do, overzealous user of the ellipsis and parentheses, starts too many sentences with ‘and’ and ‘so’, living in a continual state of Wanderlust.

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