* originally posted july 2013 In life, there are wondrous moments; fleeting seconds of pure ecstasy, that we wish we could bottle up to keep with us forever. There are moments so pure, so exhilarating and freeing, that they almost … Continue reading →
* This post was written by me in 2013, but the original host site it was posted on does not exist anymore, so I am re-posting it here.
Fun fact, this post is how my husband found me, by reading these exact words and connecting to everything I had to say. 6 years married now, because of such a random twist of fate.
A lot has happened since writing this, including clarity that I was still very very mentally unwell. I was still living with and surrounded by my toxic family. I wasn’t in therapy. And I wasn’t being completely honest with myself yet. Nevertheless, I still want this to be out there as part of the beginning of my healing.
I am also disabling likes & comments. This just needs to be here, left alone.
It’s been four years since my last post. So much has changed.
I don’t have it in me quite yet to write a proper post, but in the meantime I will say this:
I am not the lunatic.
I was never the crazy one. The selfish one. The wrong one.
I am the sane one.
I am the strong one.
I am the one who sees the truth.
I am the one who was courageous enough to live the truth.
And I, I am the free one.
It took me 31 years to learn this.
And that will never be taken from me again.
Love to all who may still find their way back here again.
I hope you can find the same.
It’s not the easy way.
It’s not the convenient way.
It’s not a painless way.
But oh, if you know you are good, deep down beyond where they tell you differently, and you can just stick it out, you will see it is the only way.
Keep fighting my friends.
Sometimes its so hard for me to see beauty. I feel so blackened, so burnt. Pieces of my skin fall off, and I leave my ashy mark on every path I step foot on. The public bathrooms are my sanctuary; I lift my feet up above the door, and I curl up, and I wait to be alone. I don’t want this world to spin anymore. Why won’t it slow down? Why is everyone out to hurt me? I want to look around and see good people; to allow myself to believe that their smiles aren’t fake. I want to breathe in kindness, authenticity, loyalty. I want to see beauty in the eyes of these ugly people, whose shadows give their burdened hearts away. Continue reading →
Why aren’t things different? Better? Fixed? Why is it that when the rain starts, I am still falling down into the dark pits of past trauma? I don’t understand it, why I am still tormented so. I can still remember, physically, the touches that I did not agree to; the fear of making a sound; the emptiness. Continue reading →
My skin still burns. The pain feels current, even though the waves of the abuse have long since washed away. Why do I still feel you? Why do I still see you? Your touch leaves a residue; a grime that I cannot scrub off. Your prescence is hiding in my closest, under my bed, next to me while I sleep. I feel your eyes on me when I stand naked in the shower, when I cry alone on the floor.
There are pieces of me strewn along the office floor. There are parts of me hiding in the drawers of the guest room. Pieces of me hiding under my bed, thrown into the closets, sleeping under my pillow. Each pile of things represents a different part of me, of my life. They are unorganized and unmindful. They are sad and mean. They are kind and empathetic. They are reaching out to be held. Continue reading →