I’m Still Buzzing

Still happy. Still glad I posted this. Still feeling on Cloud 9. I think it’s one of those things you don’t realise has been pressing on your lungs until it’s gone. I can talk to people. I can talk without this horrendous sense of something being an elephant in the room, that only I know about, and that could squash my chest at any moment. Everyone knows, and I am unapologetically, wholly me.

And yes, there’s been some odd interactions. There’s been some forcefully bright and cheery and casual conversations. There’s been some ill-disguised disappointment — that I’m not wretched, or broken, or traumatised. That I’m functioning and, God forbid, happy! But these will pass. And even in their awkwardness, their discomfit it is no holds barred, total interaction. Even when my sister put her foot in it today, it felt so good to be able to laugh openly, rather than wince internally.

I’m still buzzing. The biggest pain, and difficulty was last year — I’ve processed a lot of it, and it’s much less immediate. The fact I, ME, have helped people, have broken down a taboo, have stood up for myself, have got some of the balance I never thought I would see — that is novel. That is new. And yes, I’m still buzzing. And I’m still so, so, so bloody proud of myself.