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Friday, February 8, 2013

why going to bali and having a break down was the best thing for me






it's coming up to the year anniversary of my trip to bali. my life changing trip to bali.

although, at the time, i didn't realise that it was changing my life.

there are two periods of time in my recent years that should my life ever be made into a memoir, (which yes, yes it should be) would have whole chapters dedicated solely to them. the first being the 3 months in which i house sat after my marriage ended. the second, my two weeks in bali.

the first week in bali was hell. pure hell. i spent every minute wishing i wasn't alive. not wishing that i would die, just wishing that i never existed. i could not see a reason to be alive. feeling like a failure and unworthy of anything good.

i literally had a breakdown. alone, in a foreign country.

the second week was easier, only because there was end in sight. it was just a livable hell.

but hindsight is a wonderful thing.

i truly don't think i'd be the person i am today having not experienced bali on my own.

i certainly wouldn't have realised that i'm stronger than i ever gave myself credit for. that i'm far more capable than i ever gave myself credit for, far more resilient than i ever gave myself credit for.

it gave me time to release the sadness of the past nine months, it gave me permission to cry (and cry and cry).

it made me realise that sometimes you can be vulnerable and allow others to help you put the pieces back together (you don't always have to do it on your own - it's ok to admit that you need help).

it showed me that it's ok to admit defeat - admit that your plans don't actually hold your best interests and it's ok to say this is enough, i've achieved my goals, going any further won't achieve anything else.

it showed me that things don't always go to plan, but you'll always find another way (if a bird cannot fly it walks).

it made me realise that sometimes you need to give it time, things usually get better in time.

it made me realise that i don't want to travel alone, i want to share my experiences.

but on the other hand, it showed me than i am able to be alone, and that being alone can be cathartic. (in small doses).

it made me appreciate the important people in my life who sat on the other end of a telephone listening to me cry, telling me it was ok and that i would be ok. i've never known such love, and it will never be forgotten.

appreciate doesn't even come close to what i feel for the three people who dropped everything to come and save me, and the other two people at home who orchestrated it, just to be with me and make me realise that i was loved and worthy of it.

it made me realise that i can do anything and be anything my heart desires.

it changed me for the better and i will forever be grateful for my two weeks of hell on earth.

1 comment:

  1. I think with every loss there needs to be some kind of funeral. And your Bali trip was the funeral for the old you, the marriage that wasn't worth it, and everything you didn't love about yourself. Sure, it sucks going through it, but at least you can say you had a proper grieving moment. ;)

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