Life is beautiful.

I seem to spend my life simultaneously feeling guilty for having survived, and feeling such utter and overwhelming relief and gratitude that I have.

Today? Guilt, grief, it’s all there. All the usual pain that leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a knot in my stomach. The littles are all pretty quiet today. In fact the whole DID internal system is. Sombre. For various reasons really, but generally we all just seem deflated…tired…emotionally very tired.

I joined them for a bit, until it occurred to me that us all sitting feeling miserable and not doing anything about it, is counterproductive and a sure way to getting lost in darkness.

It’s not that I want the pain to go away – I believe going through the grief, and working through the guilt, and letting myself cry and scream and sit silently in sorrow for us and the other children is needed and healthy. However, the point where all of us are just sitting staring into space is a dangerous point; nobody is left to pick us up and remind us the world isn’t all hideous. The world we came from, even, wasn’t 100% evil. I just think of the children’s smiles…

So I’ve bounced myself out of the black bed of bleurgh I’d fallen onto. It’s like being hungover and knowing fine rightly you need water and food, but feeling so sick you daren’t try…but sure enough, when you do, the whole world looks amazing.

And life is beautiful. I’ve been paying close attention today to the finer details around me. I opened my email inbox and instead of cry at the sheer volume of emails that need answering, I paid attention to the words. To the subtle (or not so subtle) differences in people’s language. How some had emailed and left me a hug or smiley face, whereas others had left me ‘best wishes.’

Then I looked outside. At the sky. It’s an absolutely stunning day. The sky is a warm blue colour, rich in it’s blue, altering in its shade – baby blue in places, intense royal blue in others. Fluffy balls of cloud appear now and then, moving slowly and elegantly across the sky, and there’s a gentle warm breeze kissing my skin, soothing my tight neck, holding me softly and gently. The trees gently sway in time to the rhythm, the rhythm of this summer day, set by the breeze. An ever-changing rhythm, a complex piece of silent and enchanting percussion…a type of rhythm you can see and yet cannot hear with ease, but can feel. I can feel the rhythm as the breeze touches me. If I listen closely, I hear the whispers in the trees, the leaves gently holding each other, and that is them making this rhythm ever more percussive.

The leaves themselves; none the same, each unique. How many different shades of green…it’s almost impossible to consider…so many variations, so many alterations in how the green is spread on the leaf, where the lines fall, what story the leaf has to tell. How mad is that nature has no two leaves the same, and yet human nature teaches us to strive for a perfection – as though we would all want to be the same. Do we call leaves fat and thin? Do we mock flowers for their colour? No…we find them beautiful. Why not ourselves?

Birdsong flies across the sky sometimes, adding a pitch to the rhythm. The world is peaceful and tranquil, and beautiful. I breathed the air in and felt such relief that I could breathe it in and taste it. How many times did I believe I’d never see the sky again, never breathe the gentle air again, never feel the soft rhythm of the world? How many brutal times of being tortured, or chained up, or too weak to lift my head – with the palms of my hands my only company? The vision of a sky and of the breeze kissing me was such a faraway dream. And here I am – with it within my reach whenever I please; I need only step outside.

How many genuine warm smiles do we see and feel, those smiles our friends give which make us warm inside? How many moments of laughter do we hear?

When I stand outside and feel the breeze, and think of my friends’ laughter, and hear the birds and listen to the soft rumblings of life going on…I feel alive. We all live in our own separate bubbles, I think sometimes we need to stop, and pause…close our eyes, spread our arms, feel the world, feel and hear and taste it, and remember…we all share this world. We are all a part of this beautiful life.

And I feel so alive it brings me to tears. And I cry for the children who never saw the sky again and felt the breeze, and I feel guilty I am here and they are not, but then I think – feel it for them.

I am alive for them all.

Life is beautiful – no matter where you are right now, however down and horrible you might be feeling…stop. Go outside. Clear your head and just let yourself be in the world for a moment and a part of this beautiful life we live in. Let the peace become a part of you, rather than you being separated from it.

We are all a part of this. Remember how beautiful your life is. Even if 99% hurts, there’s still a beautiful world which you are a valued part of…


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