*Firstly, s/o to Jordan Lee Dooley as this phrase has been stuck in my head for months.

SO, if you’re up for an upfront, honest, hit-you-in-the-gut jumble of words then hop on board folks *tips metaphorical conductor’s hat*.

The last few months have been exhausting, confusing and an all-round emotional rollercoaster. But that’s me in general, isn’t it? I am very open about the fact that I don’t have it altogether. Every time I write on this blog I feel it’s some sort of lesson I’ve picked up along the way of my super windy path (or more honestly been hit in the face with).

I don’t have a problem saying that I do not know what I am doing most of the time. That sometimes I fall down, and I stay down for a while. Sometimes folk come lay beside me. Sometimes I just have a cry (well, I put on really really sad music and wallow). Sometimes it’s just a brief moment and it passes straight away. It really depends. But, eventually, I can get up and keep going.

Do I fall again? Of course. Do I make bad choices? Why yes. Do I sometimes feel weak and useless? 100%.

So I’m not afraid to say I’m broken if I am, because if I don’t? And it overwhelms me? I find it so hard to get back up again. And I end up a bit like Humpty Dumpty. Lots of little pieces no matter what anyone does or tries to do to help.

Somewhere along the way, we were told that strength is showing no fear, no weakness. And boy did we believe it. We try to deal with everything alone. When we’re asked if we’re okay we say yes. Of course. I’m fine. Fine, fine, finety fine. And so the other person responds the same way and we carry on with our days all playing our role in the Grand Show. We’ve become wonderful actors. Really giving Brad Pitt a run for his money (not literally though because I’ve just graduated and am in a bit of debt).

I suppose I’m writing to beg you not to do so. Do not pretend to be okay if you are not. Cry out. Reach out. Even whisper if that’s all you can manage.

Do not pretend to be okay if you are not. Cry out. Reach out. Even whisper if that’s all you can manage.

The past few months I have had too many conversations with people coming close to the edge, people whose burdens are so heavy, they don’t know what to do anymore. And each conversation starts generally the same, ‘I’ve tried to deal with this myself for so long… I’ve tried to be strong.’ Here and now, in my opinion, true strength comes from weakness. True strength is reaching out. It is realising that you can’t do it alone, nor do you have to. True strength is carrying on even when it feels like there is no reason to. It is dragging yourself across the floor holding on to that tiny bit of hope.

It is okay to be broken. In some ways I imagine all of us are, each in a different way due to different experiences, because life can be difficult. We lose people, things don’t go how we thought, there are crises that shake our beings to the core. So don’t be ashamed. Don’t dig yourself further and further into a hole, because it’ll only get darker and darker, deeper and deeper, until you no longer know the way out and remember, no one knows you’re even down there in the first place.

So you don’t have to do it alone. It is 100% okay to be sad. To be a big ol’ mess. We’re all a little broken, some are just better at hiding it.

Cry, wallow, let it rainnnnn (I’m trying so hard to subtly sneak in a storm metaphor, mostly because there is a literal storm right now in Spain).

So your brokenness is most certainly welcome here.

When you feel tired, exhausted, weighed down, like everything is impossible, like it’s too much. You may feel as though you don’t have the strength, that you are not strong, that you are not enough.

But, my friend, you most definitely are.

Perhaps you are stronger than most.