My First Year of Self Expression

This post is a pretty big deal for me as this month commemorates exactly one year since I started writing my blog! I know, time flies. On that note, let’s take it back a year and review…

When I first started writing/blogging/possibly over sharing… I was in a dark place. I was living my first year without my Mam and I had just had my heart broken for what seemed like the very first time. It’s safe to say I was miserable and I had never felt so alone. Now, I wouldn’t class myself as a “creative” person but I have always had a way with words and I needed to find a healthy way of “self expression”. Therfore, I started blogging. I intended for it to be a helpful insight for others like me, others who have lost. As it turns out, it’s became more of an online journal than anything else. That’s why I changed my tagline to “The not so Secret Diary of Demi”. This isn’t a guide on “How To Move On”, this is my life and I’m so glad you have all appreciated my honesty. As it also happens, there isn’t an actual guide on how to move on, you just sort of do.

Over the last year I have written mainly about two things… boys and dead parents. I have grown acceptance that it’s what I’m good at. I’m good at writing about heartbreak because this past year it’s what I have been living. At times, it has gotten tedious. At times, it has gotten repetitive. At times, even I wanted me to mix it up a bit. There is more to me than just a sadness and that means that eventually there will be more than just sadness that I write about. You guys have stuck by me though. I also get really good feedback.

I have touched slightly on other topics too. My complicated relationship with my Father, my fantastic relationship with my beautiful Sister’s, my great support system and amazing Friends. I have added humour where necessary and joked more about myself than other person could. I’m quite a self aware person. I have my flaws, I know but I own my flaws too.

I have written in detail about my insecurities, my shadow of self doubt, my chronic overthinking, my dramatic tendencies and even my binge drinking. I have laid myself bare this past year in my writing, in telling you all of my thoughts, feelings and experiences. I have always been an incredibly emotionally vulnerable person anyway, I wear my heart on my sleeve… my writing should be no different.

As I mentioned in a above paragraph, this blog was intended to be “a helpful insight” yet as the year has gone on I have realised something. This blog is more for me. I write for me. I write about the sadness and despair I have felt because it helped for me to get it out there, it helped for me to right it all down.

You could probably tell from my blog that this past year I struggled to find true happiness, before realising in May that my happiness didn’t have to be determined by a man and whether or not he wants me. May was an epic month for me. May brought amazing change. May was the month I knew for certain that I was okay being on my own. It was during this spectacular month that I went back to Magaluf and left with a tattoo of a lemon on my arm. I did this to play up to my “bitter” status. Bitter about men and other people’s ability to find a good one. I have since come to realise that I’m not all that bitter anymore but when people ask, “what’s the lemon for?”, I still say, “I’m bitter as f*ck”.

I love that many of you have stuck by me. Stuck by me through all of the repetition, through every tedious moment, through all of my romanticism and poetic ramblings. You have stuck by me, throughout each out of character experience, through every single time I lost my way. You did that by simply reading, just reading. I am grateful for every message I have ever received from each of you, for every like, for every comment and for every share. You remind me each time that my words matter.

In conclusion, it’s been a whirlwind of a year. I have spent best part of it being an emotional wreck and writing about that helped me massively. More than any of you may ever know. Now, here I am six weeks into a new relationship with an old flame and my feelings are undoubtedly growing deeper and deeper. All I have ever wanted for the last year seems to be happening and at the time that everyone said it would. When I least expected it. To be honest, it’s with who I least expected too. Being with him, it’s as easy as breathing. It’s outside complications that seem to be the issue. I’ll not get into it because it isn’t my business to share with the world but I will say that it terrifies me. One year later and I am certain of one thing that has not changed. My overwhelming fear of abandonment. If I’m not scared of someone I love dying, I’m scared of them leaving me of their own accord. I don’t doubt the fact that it’s unhealthy and it’s something I try not to bring into my every day life. I try my best to not let it cloud my judgement or thoughts. It’s been a little more difficult as of late. Especially with “third party complications” in my new relationship. It may seem as though I am not overly secure in my relationship but believe it or not it’s the opposite. I only ever start to be filled with worry and doubt when I’m secure. It’s as though I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop… for something to go wrong… for him to make the decision to walk away.

Whatever happens, I know I’ll be okay… I read back sometimes on previous entries just to gain some extra perspective. I forget what I’m capable of withstanding. I forget what I am strong enough to endure. I forget what I have been through. I need to remember to remind myself that if I can survive all of that then I can survive pretty much anything… I also still have an amazing support system. An amazing set of friends and family and of course, I have you guys… I know where you all are if the other shoe does actually in fact decide to drop.

So… 37 posts, 7,294 visitors from 33 countries and an average word count of over 1,000 words later… here I am and as long as you keep reading, I’ll keep writing. Right now, I have never felt less alone.

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