Bleak House

I started writing my story about fifteen years ago and I showed it to a friend, her response “it’s a bit bleak”. It crippled my confidence and I stopped writing. She was right though, it was bleak but all these years later I’ve come to realise that some stories are just bleak. Some times stories just are awful and there is no twist or one liner that comes at the end to save everyone from awkwardness, that satisfies everyone and makes everyone feel okay.

Most of the time when I’m sharing one of the many awful things that have happened to me I’m able to use my dark humour to make sure everyone is able to laugh at the end. It’s not because I think it’s funny or because I’m okay with what happened to me. Mostly it’s to make sure everyone is okay with what they heard and a bit less uncomfortable. Mostly because I’m afraid of judgement. Bring perceived as weak or as a victim.

Uncomfortable things happen all the time. I think trying to be comfortable all the time is a big mistake. Comfortable means you don’t try and change anything, you don’t take action against injustice. Comfortable means you don’t develop as a person. You get stuck. I think we need to face it down. To look uncomfortable in the eye and say “I feel you”.

Don’t get me wrong my sense of humour has been my most used weapon and defence in my mental and emotional arsenal. I’m a huge believer in laughter is the best medicine and all that. My sense of humour has powered me through many a dark day. What I am going to do now though is tell my story honestly and unapologetically. Parts of it will make for deeply uncomfortable reading but its my story and to try and cover it with a nice sheen would be dishonest and misleading. To quote the fabulous Albin Mougette “I am What I am”

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