This life journey is pretty confusing, I’m not alone in thinking that right? I don’t even think my childhood made sense, I always kind of felt ‘weird’. Even though I had loads of friends I always felt different to them, it seemed like they didn’t care to ponder on the weird stuff that I did. I tried speaking about my thoughts sometimes, but usually I was shut down. My imagination was my saviour as a child, it never let me down. I used to dream though, that I would fall asleep and wake up and someone would tell me I had been in a coma for years and I was now an adult, especially during those teenage years. I thought as an adult it would all finally make sense. I am guessing you can figure out whether that hypothesis was confirmed?

I am not sure if it is because I was a fourth child and my parents were exhausted? Or whether it is because I got good grades and hung out with the popular group, that the people around me just assumed I was OK? For the record I wasn’t ok. I do honestly think I tried to communicate that a few times, with the result usually being pretty much just stop talking, but most of the time I just kept quiet as it seemed to mean everyone was happier that way. I learned to shut down, instead of opening up. I pretty much felt no one wanted to hear what I had to say. I think that is where my love of writing took off, it was my sacred place where I could let my imagination run wild and no one had to listen, or tell me to keep quiet, so I got to let the pen slide across the page and say whatever I wanted! Sometimes I would write so fast that I could barely recognise my own handwriting.  I had so much to say, but no other outlet.

I remember trying to tell my friends about things that were wrong and they actually laughed at me, I still remember that day, they told me that I had no right to complain about anything because my life was so perfect. I guess that is how it looked from the outside, when you are dating the football captain and you’re wearing the right clothes life has to be perfect. I remember feeling completely alone in that moment. I may have never been alone physically, but inside I felt utterly alone, friends are great for the fun stuff, but you don’t ever open up to them, not really. But we were all just kids back then, we thought the meaning of life was to graduate and look good whilst doing it. We all had a huge wake up call coming!

I have often looked back at the young girl and woman I was and wished I could go back and wrap her in my arms and tell her that she did deserve to be heard, and that she needed to keep talking no matter how many times they tried not to listen, I want to tell her to yell and scream until her voice is heard. No magic time machine though, and then there is of course the dilemma of if I could travel back would it change everything and everyone? Would I really stop all the shit stuff if it meant giving up who I am today, my children, my husband, my friends? Of course not, I couldn’t do it. But then I think of her, the girl I was, and I wonder how could I leave her there to face what I now know she was about to face, I wouldn’t wish that on even an enemy.  I guess I am glad no one is offering me a time machine!

What about you, would you go back if you could? Would you change things? Would you warn yourself not to take a certain path? I hear people say they live with no regrets and I wonder is that really possible? Just because I think I wouldn’t change things doesn’t mean I don’t regret things. Anyway, just my random thoughts for today. I stopped writing for a long, long time, but I am grateful I found it again, it is a good outlet, but I am even more grateful that I found my voice and that I now have a few special people who actually listen.

Thanks to anyone for taking the time to read, love Mac xx

What My Fridge Says