The Cat came back the very next Day …

I couldn’t wait till Friday.  I started pre-packing Wednesday and by Thursday morning I said the hell with waiting one more night.

I grabbed only what I thought I would need, including my cat, whom is MUCH HAPPIER here then where I used to live.  And so am I quite honestly.

That 4 days I spent at “home” really opened my eyes.  It has given me a whole new appreciation for the new town that I am staying in, my boyfriend, his family, and this whole “new and improved me” journey that I am on.

As soon as I made the decision to get outta there I felt better.  The more I packed into my van to bring back the better I felt.  Once I realized what I wanted to do it was like a landslide.  Inside of 4 hours I was ready to go.

I was back to my new home before 6pm.  It felt so good.  Better then I ever imagined.  I still don’t know what the hell I was thinking.  I am trying not to think about it but I can’t help myself.  I don’t really know where I got the notion that going home would be fun.  It was not and I don’t think I want to do that again.

I am dreading the lecture I am sure my mother will give me when I reveal that I am staying in my new home.  But she needs to understand that I need to do what I need to do to find my way.  I feel bad and sad that it did not work but what can you do? Stay there and be just as miserable as I remember being before? I can’t.

Being back in my old room reminded me too much of my past self.  The sadness, the emptiness, the anxiety.  I found it to be very triggering.  I had to take an ativan to sleep the first night I was there.  I could not take the lack of sunlight in that room either.  It was very depressing.  I found myself waking up at 10am thinking it was 5am instead of my usual 7-8am wake up time.  I just could not do it.  It is what it is.

I have spent my day cleaning and organizing and putting things away.  Trying to get things back to the way they were (minus the crap I am keeping at my moms for now).  I am trying to get rid of things I do not need or use.  I have just entirely too much crap that I keep lugging back and forth.  And that could quite possibly be a metaphor for my life right there.  I need to stop lugging the shit back and forth.  Enough is enough.

Today is a new day and this is a new chapter.  I need to stop feeling so stupid for my actions and behaviour the last few weeks, accept it, and move on.

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I don’t know what I was thinking

I don’t know what I was thinking.

I thought that I missed my home.  But home has changed, nothing is how it was.  This is not what I wanted nor expected.

I was so excited to come stay here again.  I thought I missed some slice of comfort that I can now see is long gone.

I hate living without my love.  Life just is not the same without him in it.  I can’t wait to see him in a few days.  Quite honestly, it’s the only thing holding me together right now.

I cried all day and all night the first few days I was here.  I think I may have missed the “idea” of “home” and some MAJOR alone time but the reality does not feel as good as the idea initially did.

Part of me wants to be here, I miss my mom and I wanted to take advantage of spending some time with her.  But she too, is different.  Which is fine, that’s life, people change, I am just not used to this new mom I am experiencing.  But then again, maybe it’s me.  I have been actively doing this EMDR Therapy for over a year now and I am just now realizing as I am typing this; it’s not home or mom that has changed, it’s me.  I have changed and I now know that I cannot flourish in this environment.  Too bad it took me bringing back 2 and a half van loads of stuff and partially setting myself up a room to realize that.

I am so grateful that I can see this change and make the decisions I need to make for me. Which is what I thought I was doing, but I was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

I feel like my younger-selves had too much control of the the bus for a few weeks there.  They steered me in a direction that, sure, 10 years ago may have been a solid option, but here, today, in 2017 I am not so sure that this is the right way for my life-bus to be driving.  Now that I am back [home] I see how much better I was getting away.  I mistook (my own personal) anger and confusion as a sign that I need to go and completely dismissed that I am in therapy and that my disassociate tendencies have been playing tricks on me.

I am not the same person I was 3 years ago and I may never be the same.  The need to accept that.  I can’t go back.  I can’t get the years and all the mistakes back.  I can’t right all my wrongs and I need to stop trying to fit myself into who I think I am or who I was.  I am who I am and that is okay.  My heart wants something different now.  I know that there may be a lot of mom lectures in my near future but I need to remember what I want and that I need to stay true to myself now.  I am a full fledged adult.  I hope she realizes I am trying to do what is best for me and it’s okay if she disagrees.  It’s not her call to make anymore.

I feel like a lunatic.  I thought this is what I wanted and as soon as I got here my heart sank.  I tried desperately to not led the dread set in but it indeed bombarded me like a punch to the face.  I love him and I don’t want to live over a half hour away.  I don’t sleep the same without him next to me, I don’t feel like myself, and I have next to no appetite.  I thought living separately was just what I needed.  I don’t really know what I was thinking.  I isolate myself more here.  I get agitated faster here.  I am more prone to anxiety here.  There’s too many damn cats here.  I can’t go anywhere because there is no where to walk to, I am too low on gas to get to town [unnecessarily] and I don’t know what I would go to town for right now anyways.

A few more days.  I have already promised myself  to take myself and my cat back for at least the weekend this coming Friday.  I am so excited for Friday I don’t even know if I will sleep the night before.  I have already started pre-packing.

I just want to go back.  I can’t wait to go back.  I need to go back.

The way he looked at Me

The way he looked at me the other night made my heart sad.

The way he looked at me was not the way he used to look at me.

Once caring, accepting, and loving windows to his soul now seem dulled, annoyed, and fed up.

With me.

I want to ask “do you still love me?” but I am afraid my heart might explode if the answer is no.

I feel like I am losing him.

I don’t know what I did wrong.  Everything seemed so right.

I cry into the night and pray that it will all be alright.

 

Going Nowhere

My brain is tired.  I can’t focus.  I almost can’t even think.

I have been TRYING all day to streamline my 2 google accounts to one.  I have been trying to synchronize and change my contact email from my personal to a business account.  It is not going well.  But it could be worse.

I do not want 2 google accounts.  The first one I created way back when I had no idea what I was doing.  I had no concept or idea of branding really and now that I do I am so frustrated that I am unable to change some things and/or I do not understand how to or what I am even trying to do at times.

Ugh.  For now I think I am stuck working between 2 accounts.  I am afraid of having an “accident” and losing all my YouTube stuff.  I have thought about starting over.  I am still thinking of starting over but I don’t want to lose my screen name or come up with a new one.  Unless of course something clever just comes to me…. You never know.  Could happen.

Google is making me crazy.  All I want to do is change my main email address.  Why WHY must it be so hard.  All day.  I have spent ALL DAY working on this and I think I am done.  I may have even effed up my adsense account along the way.  Good grief. I need to stop thinking about this conundrum.

I feel like I am trying to get somewhere and I am getting nowhere.  I am going nowhere.  Except in circles.  I am going in circles.

Perhaps after I sleep on it I will be able to think with a clearer mind.

I have a therapy appointment tomorrow.  I both dread it and look forward to it all at the same time.  I look forward to getting out of the house and having some me-time but I hate that I have to spend it talking about my problems and my younger-jaded-selves.  I hate that I have to worry about parking every time I am there.  City parking is a nightmare and costs an arm and a leg for a measly hour or 2.

My mind is everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

I hate the night before therapy days.  I always feel slightly all-over-the-place.  I want to go but I don’t want to go, I want to be finished, I want to be whole and happy and back to me again.  I had no idea it would take this long and I wonder if I will ever find me again.  Sometimes I feel like she is there and other times I feel like she is no longer me, and I am no longer her.  The days I can feel her are the better days.  The days that I feel as if I am no longer her are the days I feel the loneliest and the darkest.

I feel like a shell.

I feel like I am invisible.

I feel as though I might just take an adivan and go to bed.

Goodnight, always hoping for a good morning.

A New and Different Beginning

For the first time in my life I feel as though I might actually be on the right track.  It has taken me a lot of time, therapy, tears, and frustration to get to this point.  I am starting over and it’s ok.  This time it will be different.

The more I proceed with my EMDR Therapy the more put-together I am feeling.  It is slow and sometimes I only feel put-together for a few hours or days before I am back to feeling all over the place but regardless, the feeling is there.  And it is a wonderful feeling.

When I am in this put-together state of mind I am easily able to do things and make decisions, I get excited about my future and I cannot wait to pursue it.  This is what is so new and different for me.  I have never really given the future much thought in the past, I just kind of acted on impulse, even at times when I thought that I wasn’t, I was.  For the first time, possibly ever, I am thinking about my future, who I want to be, and how to get there – and in a positive light no less.  I am so used to looking at everything with such a negative spin that to think and see my future in a positive way is so very refreshing, relieving, and new.

I know this feeling may not/will not last long.  I always hope it does and still I am always surprised to find myself back in a depressed and negative state of mind.  One day the positive me will stay [I am assured almost EVERY Therapy session] and my negative self will not be so prevalent.  I look forward to that day SO MUCH.  It’s part of what keeps me in therapy.  The other part is fear of becoming a very bitter and lonely person.  I was starting to go that way and let me tell you, it is NOT FUN.  For a long time I felt that I wanted to be alone and that I deserved to be bitter.  I had long accepted that this was to be my lot in life, to get more angry and sad as years went by.  I am happy to say that at 33 I am just realizing that it is NOT my lot in life to be alone, sad, bitter, and angry.  Not only is it not a good look on anybody, but it is a horribly miserable world to live in.  It is one full of self-loathing and destruction.

It has taken me my entire life to get here, to a place I did not even know could exist.  A place full of self-love, self-trust, happiness, safety, and positive self-reassurance.  I can almost taste the freedom of my new self, a self I never even knew I had.

I finally feel as though I am blooming, my new life is starting as it has gotten all too painful to remain closed tightly in a bud.  A bud that was created to keep me safe in times when I was so very unsafe, a bud that I thought I needed around me in order to avoid more heartbreak.  A bud that I am starting to no longer need or want.  That my friends is something so special, so new, so different then all the other times I thought I was on my way to mental-wellness.

Too much Bran and other Thoughts

It has now been just over 2 and a half weeks since we have moved.  So far so good – better then I thought actually… Until by the end of week 2 I realized I had not been…as “regular” as I should be.  Being the over-paranoid person that I can be I started thinking the worst and decided I better get me some bran, and perhaps some Activia yogurt.  I figured it was best to cover both bases of good bacteria and fibre.

I ended up deciding to just mix the yogurt and bran buds together which to my pleasant surprise is pretty good and pretty filling.  I literally pour out my ‘lil cup of yogurt into a bowl and add bran buds, mix it up and enjoy! Easy peasy lemon squeezey.

Within 24-48 hours I was feeling the affects of my yogurt-bran concoction and now, a few days later I feel fantastic.  Thanks to my enjoyment of my new little healthy snack I am becoming more regular then I have ever been and I am feeling physically and mentally better.  I might be to a point where if I am not careful I will consume too much bran.  I do not wish to experience what that will do.

Writing about being regular and bran snacks may not seem like much to most but the thing I wish to highlight here is that my stomach has not been the monster I had expected it to be – minus some minor constipation.  Since moving I have had less stomach aches, cramps, and bathroom issues in general.  I find it interesting that moving myself to a more positive and engaging environment is most definitely affecting me physically [and mentally] and in a good way.  This is showing me how negatively I was once effected by the life I had created for myself.  Back in 2008 into 2014-ish my stomach was like a ticking time bomb.  I felt like shit so much I got used to just feeling like shit.  When I was working I would watch what I ate around my shifts so as to make sure I would not have any problems during my shift.  I’d not eat instead of risking feeling sick- or I would have no appetite at all because I would be so stressed.  There was a time that I would get so anxious before going into work I would have to throw up before every shift.  Every.  Shift.

I can now see so clearly how my life was effecting how I was feeling physically.  I hated my job, my living situation, hec I think I must have hated myself to let myself continue to be miserable for so long.  At 25/26/27 years old I felt so stuck, I felt like life was beating me down, that “this” is all that there was for me.  I could not have been more wrong.  At 33 I feel like I am getting a new life.  It has been a long journey to get here and there is still more to hike but I am so grateful that I am on this journey and that somewhere I did love myself enough to decide to change my life.  Watching my Dads health fade away so fast at such a young age made me realize how short (and sad) life can be.  I decided right then and there that I wanted to change my life and pursue my ultimate best-self.  Before he died I was only living half a life and I was lying to myself about what I wanted and who I was.

Now, almost 4 years later and thousands of dollars in therapy, I am finally starting to feel like my whole -self is coming together.

 

First week here

I have made it.  Made it through the first week of being in a new place.  It has it’s pros and cons, mostly pros, but it is still a battle for me.  During the day I feel fine, content, a little lonely and a little lost but ok.  At night I have a hard time.  Last night I completely broke down and cried.  I am not unhappy here, it’s just different.  I need time to adjust.

I like being in/closer to town.  A few days ago my brother-in-law and I walked to a few places.  It was so windy I almost tripped over my own feet but I was so happy to be out and walking.  Freezing no less, but walking.  Our main purpose for walking to town was to get chocolate.  We both need our chocolate.  I also bought a Marc Ecko “cut & sew” pullover sweater, 100% Wool, for $10.00 at a local discount store.  It’s a men’s medium and fits a little large but I love it.  We came home to eat our chocolate and make tea.

My kitten, Marble, is adjusting pretty well.  She was sick yesterday a few times which immediately had me in tears and worried but by late afternoon she was totally fine and has been since.  I don’t know what cause her to be sick, her food is the same, her water is the same, same dishes, she has not gotten into anything… I don’t know and I am going to try not to over worry about her which I am all too good at. Today she has been running all over the house, she has seen her first bathroom and kitchen.  She sat and watched me do dishes this morning.  Such a cutie.  She helps keep me occupied and she is great company.

I am doing my first load of laundry here tonite.  I feel good to be getting on with laundry life.  I have had a nice hot shower with Sienfeld-like pressure.  It still blows me away every time I get in it. It’s kind of fun.  I did some dishes and tidying while my mother-in-law was out, I figured it was the least I could do.  I feel good this evening, granted it is Friday and I did take an Ativan earlier because I did not wish to repeat last night.

I was fine all day yesterday, at least I think I was fine.  I was longing for the weekend and definitely stressing about my Marble all day and I guess by 10pm I finally cracked.  Today I opted to try to keep myself busy and I have even decided that I want to re-arrange our new room already. I love a good re-arrange and re-organize.

I also really love our new little room.  It is much smaller then the one I had at my moms but it is cozy.  We have opted to put our mattress on the floor instead of taking up extra room with my antique 4-poster bed frame-plus in time of anxiety I like to lay on and sleep on the floor so just slapping the mattress down seemed like a good idea.  So far, so good, I quite like it.  I even have all the comforts I have gotten used to having, a small space heater and my heating blanket (this house is old and though very solid is limited on heat vents, this room of ours in particular does not have one).  With the door open during the day it heats up in here pretty fast but if I want the door closed it can get a little chilly.  Nothing compared to the chill of the basement though.  I love living above ground.  I was so sick of living in the basement, it was kind of depressing [for me].  We have 2 beautiful windows in our room that both myself and my cat enjoy.

I am learning what I actually need and use.  I don’t know where half my stuff is right now- I mean I know ALL of it is right above me in storage- but I don’t know where to begin to start looking for this and that.  Last weekend when we were moving I was so in a tizzy to just get outta my old house by the end I was just grabbing shit and putting it wherever.  I hope tomorrow to be a very good find-and-organize day.

Looking back at the week I feel that I will be ok.  I still need time to adjust and I need to take my time and I need to remind myself that it is ok.  My love is so supportive and has been since day 1, one of the many reasons I love him so.  I feel like as long as we are together and have each others love that I, we, will be ok- not just ok, FABULOUS.  I don’t praise him enough and he certainly deserves it.  He rubs my back when I cry because I am sad for no explainable -or at least cry able – reason.  He checks in often to make sure that I am ok and when he does he looks at me with such a look of genuine caring concern, it makes my heart skip a beat every time and it reminds me why I am doing this.  I mean aside from the fact that I am in my thirties and IT IS TIME for me to leave the nest… I need to do this for him, and us.  He stayed by my side no questions asked and no judgements ever and now I will stay by his.  I will be the best me I can be [if not for me] for him.  We made this move for me, so I could feel more relaxed and less sad, lonely, and frustrated.  And I am happy to report that I am feeling more relaxed, less sad, lonely, and frustrated which is an amazing feeling.  Sadly it is such a new feeling that I am not sure what to do with it yet.

The weather has been crazy this week.  From pouring rain to insane winds to snapping cold with flurries, literally every day has been different… I just wanted to log that for memories sake.

Well, my computer is dying and my eyes are getting heavy so off to bed I toddle, looking forward to Saturday, and Saturday morning snuggles with my love of course ❤

Last Day Here

It is officially my last full day here.  By this time tomorrow [the rest of] the move will surely be underway. I am both excited and nervous for this new chapter of my life.  A month ago I did not know that I would be leaving yet here I am.

Most of my clothes are packed away.  Upon packing said clothes I realized I hate most of them and wish to slowly start upgrading my wardrobe.  Not all, just some.  Too many items remind me of the person I was and of certain feelings I may have had when I wore this item or that one.  For example, I have a long sleeved knit white tunic from Walmart that I have owned and worn for over 10 years now.  It used to be my go-to “going out” or “date” sweater.  It now looks more beige then white and whenever I wear it I can’t help but remember that time I had an anxiety attack whilst en route to the Mandarin.  Got there only to NOT EAT ANYTHING. I just silently panicked at the table while insisting the party I was with “please enjoy themselves”.

I have a Barbie sweatshirt that is baby pink and I love it but every time I touch it I recall how I ordered it right before going to Cuba in 2013.  A trip that I recall as a shit ton of panicking, throwing up and just wanting to go home.  In trying to move on with life and continue to improve myself I feel as though I don’t want these cloth reminders of memories.  As of this moment these items are packed away but as I unpack I plan on donating a lot.

I am feeling better about this whole thing [this morning] then I thought that I would.  I have only had to take 1 ativan so far this week and I will allow myself 1 for tonite and possibly 1 for tomorrow because I just know now that I will not be sleeping and good grief I cannot let anxiety get in my way.  It has gotten in the way of my life enough already and has led to me where I am at this current moment.  I’m not in a bad situation per se but I am not where I wanted to be.

I am not working and I am on social assistance.  Something I was advised to do by both my Doctor and my Therapist a few years back.  At this point in time I am trying to focus on completing EMDR and healing myself without the extra stress of working or trying to work.  Also after 10+ years of shitty jobs, shitty hours, shitty pay, working multiple jobs and still not getting ahead, I was mentally and physically exhausted.  I have worked so many places my resume should be a novella.

I have no idea what the future holds for me, and us but I can only hope and pray that is is a good one.  I have had enough bad things happen in my life, it is time for some good stuff.  I know that this move is a step in the right direction and I am so looking forward to being the person that I am supposed to be.  It has been a long time since I started a new chapter, perhaps a little too long.

So, here we are, last day of this chapter, last day in this room, last day in this house.  It’s bittersweet.  Part of me can’t wait to shut the door tomorrow afternoon and the other part of me wants to hold on for dear life… then there’s another part screaming “just defrost your fridge already!!!”.

 

DEEP BREATH.

… The fridge is waiting.  Along with your new life.

I am freaking out.

My poor boyfriend ought to come into our room at any moment to find me sobbing like a baby.  I can’t hold it in any longer today.  I am trying not to freak out but I think I am freaking out.

I first showed up in my therapists office about 5 years ago now, claiming that I am “just naturally thin” and that “my mom is my best friend”.  Both of those lines were slightly blurred.  I had managed to finally arrive in that office, in search of EMDR Therapy, because my mother had told me I needed to.  That I needed to get this therapy and to “hurry up and try it” so that “maybe” she “could try it too”.  Well, here we are 5-ish years later and I am still working on my EMDR whilst my mother will most likely never try it because “it takes too long” and she can’t seem to decide wether or not she needs therapy.

I am not one to tell anyone that they need therapy, that is something you need to decide for yourself and I have always said that if you can live with life and your mental health is not bothering you enough to seek out help then you are probably fine without out it.  But my mother could use a session or 2.

I miss my father immensely, I wish I could just speak with him, I look at his photo and it makes me cry harder.  I wish he was here to give me one of his famous hugs and to tell me not to worry about my mother.  He was always very observant and empathetic, something I am realizing my mother is not.  He noticed when my 7 year old self was not doing well and he tried to get me out.  He noticed when I was losing weight in high school and he knew it was more then just shedding some puberty-weight.  He always reassured me that he loves me and I knew I was wanted.  He encouraged me and allowed me to be myself.

My mother not so much.  She has controlled so much in my life that now that I am leaving I am terrified.  I don’t know how to be myself anymore for fear of being not taken seriously  or perhaps even lectured on life.  I can’t tell her how I really feel for fear of being gaslighted.  Something my mother is very good at.

This is what hurts the most.  Feeling as though I can’t even tell her how I am feeling about the events of the past month/year.  I am so angry that I have been working so hard to do EMDR therapy and I am in the thick of it now, and now is when I am being forced to move. The EMDR therapy I “had to get” because of traumas that she helped create.

I know that it is best for me to go.  It is time for me to go.  I should have gone a long time ago.  Perhaps I am angry with myself.  I allowed myself to end up in this position.  I am sad that I am not yet the person I am supposed to be.  I let myself down too many times and this is my consequence.  I listened to someone who did not know what they were talking about and I dismissed my needs and wants in exchange for pleasing someone else.

* * * 12 HOURS LATER * * * 

I need to remind myself that this move is the start of my new and improved life.  I thank my lucky stars that I found someone that shines light into my life, sees me for me, and loves me unconditionally.  I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like without him.  When he first came along a few years ago I promised myself I would stop making decisions based on my mother.  He was one of my first decisions and it has been the best one I have made in a long time.  We decided to move together and I am committed to moving with him.  I am also committed to finding myself and learning to love life again.   I know that this is a step I need to take in order to find my happiness.  I should be excited, not terrified.  I have found something that I never thought I would, love and acceptance.  I need to focus more on the love and acceptance part and try to let the fear go.

PHEW. A few moments of mulling that [last] thought over and I am feeling a little less teary.  WHOA. This post is kind of all over the place but I am posting it anyways because I took the time to write some things that I would like to remember.

After feeling anxious and crying last night and then having a repeat this morning I am tired.  At the same time I don’t want to sleep, I want to work towards my new and improved life.

Maybe I will pack some more stuff.

 

MOVING OUT

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The time has come where I can no longer stay in my current situation/environment and I have decided to move.  This has been a long time coming and should have happened a long long time ago.  I am to the point where I no longer feel welcome here, I isolate myself on a daily basis and I am stifled creatively.

I have mixed feelings about this move.  I know in my heart that if I stay here I will only stagnate, and I have been stagnating in this toxic and negative place I call “home”.  Thanks in large part to my PTSD and quite possibly my mothers own PTSD I have allowed and been allowed to stay in this house for too many years.

I am 33 (just turned) and I am leaving my mother’s house for the first time.  I have travelled in the past and I have lived in many other places for short periods of time but I have never packed up all of my things and left.  For what I hope to be permanently.  Like I said- I have been here too long.  I have allowed myself to think that I am not capable of living outside of this house.  I have been made to think that it is too hard “out there” and that if I can’t make it here then I certainly can’t make it “out there”.  I have become accustomed to not inviting ANYONE over anymore, even my best friend who has known me for over 20 years.  Partly due to embarrassment and partly due to the feeling that I just shouldn’t.  Socialization is not promoted in this house.  I am sick of being talked down to, I am sick of the constant negativity.  I need to be able to breathe. I need to be able to live.

So. I am moving out.  I have spent the last 2 weekends packing and moving all of my belongings to my mother-in-laws house where I will be staying with my love until we can save up first and last for our own place.  Trust me- I did NOT want to move from one mother to another but as my luck would have it the decision to move happened rather quickly and as we have no other place to go and we need out immediately, this seemed like the best option.  For many reasons.

And so here I sit, in my room, for the last Tuesday I may ever sit in this room.  Most of my stuff is gone to my new home, aside from my bed and a few large furniture items that will be moved Saturday morning, and my cat Marble.

I feel as though I need to remember this. I need to remember sitting in my own house feeling so unwelcome.  I need to remember that this does not feel like home – and then I have to ask myself – has it ever?  Grandma’s house felt like home.  This has never felt like that.  Looking back I realize that this “home” has allowed my PTSD to fester and erupt.  The worst it got, the more I thought I had to stay, all the while being suffocated by the thick, negative air.  Why do I feel like the family outcast? Because I found out 10 years of anxiety and depression where a part of something much bigger (PTSD)? Because I decided to take time off to heal myself? Because I fell in love with a wonderful man? Well. Pardon me all to hell.

I used to think this “home” was a safe place.  I have come to feel that it is not safe at all.  Not for me and my mental health.

I am sad.  I am sad that this took 10 years too long to happen.  I should have been in therapy and moving out 10 years ago.  The time and tears that I have wasted trying to find myself here, and falsely believing this was the best place to do it is frightening.  I am sad that I have allowed my self esteem to be on the chopping block for so long.  I am sad that I let my mother so interfere with my relationship with my father.  I am sad that I let myself down countless times because I was too afraid to be myself.  I am sick of hiding.  I am sick of isolating myself, I am sick of not living my life.

I should be happy that I am leaving- and I am happy but I am also hurt and afraid.  I am hurt because I feel as though the rug has been pulled up from underneath me…AGAIN.  I am afraid because this is all I have known.  I feel like I am about to be freed but I don’t know how I feel about that freedom because -at 33 – this feels very new, overwhelming, and scary.

Stay tuned my friends, this could be a bumpy ride.

The PTSD Tag

Thank you for calling me Brave

THERAPY THURSDAY | July 2016