It’s been one year since I started writing this blog.
In the beginning, it was a way to speak without talking. I wasn’t sure I could ever learn how to talk about the past. I couldn’t even really talk about the present or future. I was frozen and numb.
I preferred it that way. It was nice to sail through life without every getting real happy or real sad about anything. Especially after my brother Michael died. I was convinced that nothing could ever affect me emotionally after such a great loss.
I learned from my nightmares and flashbacks that my hope of never feeling again was unrealistic.
At the beginning of therapy with Mrs. A, I was so out of touch with feelings, emotions, and reality.
I fought against the tears, the heartache, the memories, and even recovery. I just wanted it all to go away.
What I learned is that all the “pushing back” I do only slows down my progress. Trying not to feel the bad, just keeps prolonging the good feelings.
The frustrating part is that 10 years of abuse, doesn’t all come out in one day. All the learned behaviors don’t just reverse in a day. Or even a year. This slow journey has been so difficult and seemingly never-ending. There were times I would much rather have checked out than continue the slow, painful bleeding.
Somehow, I have stayed in there. Somehow, I’ve learned to talk about some of the abuse. Somehow, I didn’t die.
I sort of mapped out a plan for telling my story. One abuser at a time. But, I had no idea that I would struggle with even talking about one.
Then there are all the family dynamics surrounding them. Family, friends, school, and health all played a part in the abuse or secrecy of the abuse.
I believe no one intentionally ignored the signs, but rather it was just too hard to accept that what might be happening could be the truth.
So it’s not as simple as sharing one incident. But it’s a series of events surrounding each incident. The mental and emotional toll of each incident is not explainable.
My point is that even though this has been an incredibly hard journey, I’m still pushing forward.
There are many, many days that I want to quit. Give up. Stop breathing. But I somehow keep going.
I hope one day, I will understand the purpose of my life, and use that understanding to inspire someone else to push forward.
I have to keep looking back at the beginning, so that I know I’m further away from it. I’m still a long way from peace and healing, but I’m further than I was yesterday.
Until next time – I am being MJ every day.