The Paradox of Loving Myself Through Depression

surrender to the truth

Something new-ish is happening with my emotional body. I am, as usual, having floods and waves of tears; sadness, grief.

I want, need to sob and pour and flood and pour.

Over the past week I have been feeling the urge, the longing and yearning to more deeply connect with and support myself. To become even more so tender with myself, in whatever way I can.

I’ve been finding that when I’m lying down, in the peace and quiet, with my deep emotions present, that I have been connecting with myself like I would for someone I am heart smitten.

I’ve been tuning into that same depth of presence where one finds oneself deeply absorbed and ‘in love’. And instead of perhaps feeling that absorption of deep love and projecting it outwards, for example onto my object of affection, I have been pouring it into myself.

I am being the receiver of my own intense presence and appreciation.

Whilst in emotional floods, I have been delicately and slowly stroking over my eyebrows with my finger tips, whispering to myself reassurances x I have been gently and warmly caressing my face with my hands, and thanking myself from my core. I have been hugging myself when I am in tears and I have been kissing myself, my hands, my arms, my finger tips in gratitude.

In absolute thanks that I am there for myself.

I am loving myself like you would love your knight in shining armour, like you would love the deepest love of your life x and I keep finding myself in tears.

Tears of deep sadness. Tears of deep mourning. Tears of ancient and inexplainable grief.

And simultaneously I am crying tears of relief, of thanks, to and for myself, for being there for me, for loving me in the midst of all these emotions and out pourings and depressions and exhaustion.

I could be confused too, but I’m accepting myself too much for that.

That connection that you absolutely pine for from elsewhere? I have been finding from myself.

I can’t explain the feeling. I just know that I need to keep crying and loving myself.

I am having a melt down at realising how deep my love for myself can actually go and I feel I need to wail about it.

In my extreme deep sadness there is absolute relief, connection, truth, RAW bliss.

I feel devastated by my own self love. It’s like a long lost loved one coming back from the dead.

Considering the path I’ve been on, the struggles I’ve had with ‘myself’, the impossible regular ferocity of the desire to annihilate ‘myselves’ and the absolute persistence and practice at being able to ‘be’ with myself, through all of that, over and over again, is where this new found self love has sprung from.

But in truth it hasn’t ‘sprung’. I’ve been nurturing and practicing self love and acceptance for a few years now, but this new depth, this new connection is one to be celebrated and embraced even more.

I am SO emotional and utterly sensitive, and I deeply and completely love and accept myself.

. . . And I still feel exhausted, worn out and depressed. It’s a paradox you see x

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