Language and words are complex and difficult at times. This month I have struggled with physical and mental illnesses that have left me voiceless.
I have managed to get through that time thanks to the love and support of friends and family.
When I first lost my voice at the beginning of this month it was because I could no longer speak to people. Words have power and the pain I was in had taken my words. I realised I could not speak because I could not be honest, I could not be kind, I was tired of giving, caring, healing others with my words of love and I felt like something had destroyed me.
With love and kindness my words returned the following day only to be struck with a dose of tonsillitus and then conjunctivitus that would leave me speechless yet again.
These events have served as I reminder, as I am still recovering four weeks into this month, that I am not obligated to give what I do not have, that my voice is mine, my words are precious, and I am, in this moment, so fortunate to be in a space where my words may, hopefully, help others.
When my voice was gone, so was my joy, the love I have for life, my body shut down and sleep was all that mattered. Burnout for no real important reason had set alight all of my cares. I stopped thinking of myself as a conscious, enlighted being because all my senses were a mess.
I now understand that surviving day to day, paying bills and working have the ability to destroy one's sense of self. I am not the only friend in my friend group who is worn down from this struggle. Somehow, the laughs and the love keep us going. The knowledge that we are not alone keeps us going moment to moment and that's okay.
Now that my voice is recovering, I am making an effort to be more creative, to find my words again. I do not know how long this will take but I am going to give it my best shot.
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