pummelled and panicked, calling for air
but instead hit with another powerful surge as the water pushes towards the shore
bobbing in the thickness of the waves as they tear between the floor and above
an onslaught unravels, preparing to suppress this energetic body and silence the mind
diving down under the fury but caught again
the energy vibrates through and hammers at the throat
again and again, the waves pass through and threaten to dissolve this foreign cargo
the fight continues until the frame meets the waves in a rhythmic pattern; listening and pushing into the energy that once threatened
and just as hurried as the attack occurred, the focus switches, the tide turns
there is no more fight left
face down, they anticipate the power to envelope, consume
a welcome push shifts a cracked and battered frame over to embrace the calm
a promise to inviolate this tired body, the smooth motion ebbs and caresses limbs in preparation to stand on solid ground once more

:: words by clare hubbard ::

______

there is a fight on our hands. like a rip tide, drawing us into a savage sea. it’s a struggle against silence, and isolation.


i have always prided myself on the fact that {i am a chameleon}, being able to assimilate into the place i find myself and adopting new ideas and experiences. i’ve viewed it as a strength, something in my character that allows me to empathise and connect with a wide variety of people, and yes it can be a wonderful gift.

but every strength can also be a weakness.

for the last while, i have found myself slipping into a too quiet and numbing space, now being hidden {hiding}. shame has been my ‘cloak of invisibility‘ and i tremble at the thought of being swallowed up and silenced for good.

yes, things have happened to me. sad, bad and those i still grapple with. we all have stories. but today it dawned on me.

i will not be silenced! i am not going to listen to the voice that tells me, i am alone – a piece of driftwood floating in a riptide.

just as the ocean struggles in what looks like turmoil, there are different movements and moments that expose what is underneath. the currents that cannot be seen and what is being pushed around, eventually comes to the shore. i have been under that wave of depression and finally feel like I am being pushed onto shore; finding my feet again on solid ground.

so in this moment i feel liberated to share, to acknowledge; bear my soul. share that word i have been avoiding on here.

the tide has turned. and will turn back again, and continues to turn.

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