7 months… what has happened in 7 months?
What hasn’t happened?
Release, Release, Release, Release, and Release, one more time. This thing is constant, accept the gift!
So much drama outside of my home. All that matters is how I live my life.
And I’ve been trying. So hard, I have been. Against every fucking odd, I’m here. Stronger and more empowered than ever. You may think, damn, confident much? If only I could say I was there yet. Ya know that saying, “fake it ’til you make it”? I’m trying that one out, mostly.
Let me back up a tiny bit.
I began seeing a therapist in December. I needed to do this for months, but the right swift kick in the ass from my infamous sister helped me just fucking do it. Looking back, there were two things that I guess you could say co-mingled. My ‘divorce’ and my identity. I was with my children’s father for nine years before we permanently split. We began dating when I was 17 years old. By the time I was 21, I had my first child. Three years later, I would have my second. And there it all was.
Those formative years… blindly seeking love.
It’s only now do I know why.
It’s sad. It’s very sad.
(this is all coming to me now)
I would do anything to just have some type of permanent love/home. Security. Safety.
I caught a dudes eye and I his, the rest is history. Your vibe attracts your tribe.
Now I see how we fell in love. He had a huge hole in his heart, too. Just hoping to fill it with someone who could. Us hole hearts, we have so much capacity for compassion.
But it all gets to be so much. So we find ways to escape it all. The list is endless of things that help numb us.
Since the time I was thirteen, I have been escaping my truth. My fears, my anxieties, my reality. Smoking, sex, and alcohol.
The pure, innocent, D.A.R.E. award winner in fifth grade.
I guess you just wet your feet at first… but then you feel the effects.
You feel different.
And wow, another Aha! moment… that’s scary. That’s really fucking scary.
this hurts too much.
to be continued.