Updates

I haven’t written a blog post since August 1st, that’s three months without any updates! Even my journal has been neglected. As I said in previous posts though, this is a good thing. The aim of the blog is for me to not need it anymore because that means I’m out living my life being happy. I’ve come back here to pay some much-needed attention to the good things.

Since my last visit here, quite a lot has happened. I’ve made some great new friendships and explored new frontiers of my current relationships. I’ve learned a hell of a lot about myself and seen first hand my old worries fade away, proving that this has all been worth it.

Here’s some fun news: My dog now jumps on the sofa, and he’s made friends with so many small dogs. We’ve really come far together and I don’t pay attention to the progress enough. I mean, I have an ex-racing greyhound who is best friends with a teeny tiny sausage dog! That’s pretty rare for an animal with such a high prey drive. He’s completely changed my life in a way that I cannot even begin to explain. I am a calmer and more content person, and I find a lot of peace in having him around me. The challenge of teaching him how to navigate this world has not always been easy, but he’s adapted so well to the various difficulties that human life presents him. I remember how reactive he was to any dog, let alone a small one. We had the muzzle not because he was dangerous but just to make sure nothing happened (big mouth, lots of teeth).

We struggled at the beginning, but I listened to the advice of an amazing greyhound trainer who said we should take it at our own pace and let him slowly discover the world bit by bit. This meant shorter and slower walks, and it meant standing far away from other dogs. By keeping a distance, we could watch them and he could learn that they weren’t a threat. I’d give him a treat here and there to help him associate other dogs with a positive experience, and to reward his calm behaviour. I did actually have an altercation with a lady who followed me into a corner and told me that my dog needs to be exposed to other dogs. Smithy was terrified, literally hiding between my legs and barking, whilst her tiny dog was going mad. I asked her several times to step back, and when Smithy really barked, she got scared and picked up her dog (having realised that she was not in a good situation). I told her that I was letting him watch from a distance and we were building up to meetings, but what she had done was set us back. I then told her to leave before I had to physically make her get out of our way (she blocked the path) and she walked off, shouting at us too. Funny how she cared so much about Smithy but was unable to notice she and her little mad dog terrified him.

Anyway, eventually we met an old Labrador who was the perfect first friend for him. Then we met a blind terrier, and had some run ins with off lead but friendly dogs. Over time, Smithy became less excited or afraid with each meeting. I had to shout at some owners when their dog ran over to us and they couldn’t call it back, but it didn’t slow us down at all. Eventually I took off the muzzle, with the confidence that he wouldn’t get into any trouble. Since then, we’ve met so many dogs of all sizes and Smithy has been great. First, I check the dog and owner to make sure they aren’t crazy, and I ask if it’s cool for the dogs to meet. I kneel on the floor and say hello to the other dog, and give Smithy a chance to watch it. He then comes over and they sniff each other, or sometimes he approaches on his own. I’ve just had two encounters where they tell me their dog hates other dogs or big dogs, yet with Smithy they’re as calm as anything. I think he should be a therapy dog.

I feel very proud of how far he has come, and I am trying to meet life with the same attitude he has, using the same approach I took with him. I have been a very quiet and introverted person, a bit guarded and often scared to speak the truth. My fear of rejection stopped me from getting myself out there, and my anxious attachment led me into some bad places. I was unsettled, unbalanced, unfulfilled, and unhappy. Over the last year, I’ve completely turned myself around though. I understand my place in the world a little better, and I know who I am. I am true to myself, but most importantly, I am open.

I see it like I’m holding wooden planks and a hammer, and I’m standing by a river. People walk past me, and if someone has nails and rope then we could build a bridge across it. However, if I don’t show them that I have the tools to build a bridge then how would they know that it was possible? They’d just walk past with their tools. By being open, I can tell the world that I am here and ready for whatever comes my way. Sometimes people will have all the tools to build with me, and sometimes they will only have a screwdriver, but it doesn’t matter because if they can lend a hand then we’ll build it quicker. Some of the people I meet help for a while, but then move onto other projects and that’s also fine. Some of the people I meet are keen builders and will stay with me on the bridge until we reach the other side. Where it leads nobody knows, but I want to build bridges regardless.

I should clarify, there is a difference between openness and vulnerability. Being open is telling people my story, and vulnerability is letting them be part of it. I never had a hard time talking about myself, but to share deeper emotions was a struggle. The uncertainty of exposing my truth was terrifying and so I would keep myself closed off; and then I would sit and wonder why I had no real intimate relationships or friendships! The old me would likely tell someone with ease about my parent’s divorce or my collapsed lung, but I would rarely reveal the feelings of these traumatic events. I might even go so far as to lie about them to avoid having to discuss it truthfully. It kept people at an arm’s length, but it was no way to establish meaningful relationships.

If I am open, and rejected, it certainly isn’t as painful as being rejected for sharing my emotions.

Being vulnerable means admitting my emotions and dealing with the possibility of rejection.

It’s perpetual too. The more vulnerable I am, the stronger I become – the stronger I become, the easier it is to be vulnerable. I now accept and embrace the different aspects of my life that I used to shy away from, and in doing so I’ve become a more confident and authentic person. Sure I still feel shame, fear, anxiety, etc; but now I own those feelings and I refuse to let them get in my way. I’ve spent many hours and written countless pages on working out why I was ever this way but it basically boils down to the fact that I learned through my experiences that the world is a painful place and that in order to protect myself I built up defences. I’ve internalised all the negative thoughts I have about myself and believed them to be true.

Now I am able to recognise that life goes up and down, it moves like the tide. Some days are great, some are good, some are bad, and some are terrible – the thing that matters is that they flow. In other words, my current mood is not a permanent state. With hindsight, I can see that all the things that I thought would end my life were actually the making of me, so I try to apply that concept to my current situation whenever something bad pops up, I remind myself that in the future it will be okay.

I embrace my position on this planet, understanding that I have an effect on people and the world around me that I may never truly know. I also embrace my errors, understanding that they make me human and teach me lessons so that I may better myself. I no longer try to prove my worth to anyone but myself, and I go much easier on myself too. I understand that I cannot be everything that is expected of me nor can I be everything that someone may want, but it will no longer stop me from offering myself to the world. I understand that things are out of my control, and I accept the situation for what it is.

Most importantly, I let people in. I tell them I love them; I write them cards; I make the effort to see them and stay close. I don’t hide my emotions or play games. It isn’t always easy but I will never go back to how I used to be. When I updated my blog, I went over my old posts. Not only do I cringe at the way I used to write, but I feel sad for the person who’s writing those words. He was lost, and for a while he was alone. I considered changing them or removing them completely, but I’ll keep them there as a reminder of my journey.

The next upload will hopefully be a 10,000-word essay on the Alt Right. That’s also why I haven’t been writing as much.