Class Is In Session Healing 101

 

            Over the past three days, I managed to binge all three seasons of Loudermilk on Netflix. Now, I don't normally watch television with such vigor. But truth be told, I used it as a distraction from the loss of Ruger. My mind left to wander quickly went to sadness and left me in a crying. Releasing grief is a skill that I am learning and as productive as it is, crying all the time is rather exhausting. 

            Season one gifted me this gem, and it is one I intend to hold onto. "Hurting yourself is easy, and living is hard". An impressive amount of people reach out to me from time to time about my blog. I have been told my writing is "Raw and real","A source of inspiration" and many other flattering things. I won't deny that I enjoy hearing when things help or hit home for people. 

            I have been more absent as of late. I, have finally started going to therapy. I was doubtful at first that I needed to go. It seemed like to me that I was in a good place and had dealt with a lot of my trauma. But a good therapist was recommended, and for once I have insurance that will contribute to the cost of going. So I would honestly be a fool not to partake in that opportunity. Not that I haven't been one for a large portion of my life. However, know better do better right?  

            I was in fact a fool to think that maybe I did not need to partake in therapy. It is amazing the things we humans bottle up deep inside, knowingly or not. Things that truthfully we did not bottle all that well. Things that seep into our very existence, often without us knowing. Maybe perchance we do slightly know what hides in our dark corners of self. But we are experts at negotiating false narratives within us to avoid scratching at things within us that go bump in the night. 

                   We love to avoid discomfort, pain and sorrow. Or in some cases, as my therapist confirmed to me, we become sponges for the things that truly hurt us. I, for one, am a human sponge for sorrow. Being real with you, I have within me unprocessed sorrow and grief from the passing of my grandmother in 1993 and grandfather in 1999. I am sure that this is just scratching the surface of what lives within me. But here I sit in the year 2024 dealing with things that little me never felt safe to release. This trend did not stop when I hit 18. It became my blueprint for how to deal with shit for my adult self. Since I didn't know it was broken, how would I ever know to fix it?

            That is the rub for all of us doing self work. We can only address what we are willing to tell our selves about. That poorly bottled pile of mental toxin we stored on a fault line is at the ready to fuck our shit up at a moment's notice. It might come out in how we deal with our loved ones when they unknowingly to any of us verbally scratch a hidden scar. It might manifest as an anxiety we instill in our children without understanding why or how. It could even come up during a verbal argument that feels unfamiliar but enrages us with unjust intensity that comes from seep within that triggers our fight or flight response. 

            Hurt people hurt people even if they don't know why they are doing it. So my friends, if you are going on the journey of trying to help yourself, don't go it alone. We really can't deal with everything on our own and once again if we don't know it is broken how will we ever know it needs to be fixed? I am not saying this to discourage you from picking up a self-help book or talk you out of joining that healing retreat you have been thinking about. I say it to encourage you to take it to the next level. As I said, I doubted I needed to talk to a therapist, and I learned just how wrong I was.

            I am getting back to level and I intend to get back to writing more often. I stopped myself from writing so many blog posts these last few months. One of my inner voices is a strong voice of self-doubt. While I do write these posts for myself, I recognize that other people get something out of them as well. Writing is amazing, and it helps me process things while I am creating these blog posts. 

            I have a few asks. Please comment on this blog post not on Facebook what your favorite self-help book, podcast or other healing inspiration you might have. If you like what I have to say, please subscribe to the blog and share it where and as you see fit. If you haven't already, please check out the podcast I run with Jeff. Mental Flog is a labor of love and much like this podcast, I never intend to see a cent from it. The first season hits hard, and the second season is in session. One thing that many of you have said is that my openness has helped. Be open with your friends and family. We all have inner struggles, and the more we constructively share with those we love and appreciate, the less stigmatized mental health and getting help becomes. I appreciate every one of you who message me, who share this passion project and who aren't taking the easy road of continuing to hurt yourselves but embracing the hard road of living. 

Bishop :(: