The Puzzle of My Life

Breathe, just breathe.

Sometimes this is the simplest of things. I move forward still in this amazing place of being in the sun, out of the darkness in which I hid for the past two years. I’ve written so much about those times. Detailed about how stuck I was. Stuck in a place I thought I’d never move ahead from. I had days I honestly did not move from my room. Weeks I did not leave my home at all. I approach a plateau of full blown agoraphobia compounding my PTSD which was already in place.

Yesterday was my pre holiday therapy appointment and instead of feeling energized I felt stand offish. I didn’t want to be there. So obviously I really needed to be there. We had some hard questions from the last session I’d been unsettled by. These questions never left my mind and had shaken my entire core. There are ways I’d defined myself which were still victim blaming in general.

Me, victim blaming myself for insane actions by insane people.

I’m not fond of this idea of victim blaming and yet I’ve worked with, been friends with people who are not realizing they do this and how detrimental it is. Because it sounds really rational. In looking at this, questioning myself I realized I had been brought up by a family of victim blamers. This is so unhealthy and unsettling. On the heels of this realization however was understanding. The kind where you find the one piece in your hand of the puzzle which makes it all make sense. No wonder my ‘self talk’ was so negative in nature and victim blaming in content.
Breathe, just breathe Bree.

It’s these moments which keep me going back to therapy, to continue to show up irregardless of how I feel about being there. Because I am finding all these pieces of my personal puzzle which makes things begin to make sense. It’s kind of, well, it’s exciting to see my puzzle taking shape.

See, I thought for a very long time I was broken beyond repair. My personal puzzle had been upended, tossed in the air, in different directions and a few pieces missing. So nothing ever made sense. I could go back and pick up the pieces, put them together but they were never going to make sense without those missing pieces.
Today I feel as if I was handed a new puzzle to put together. Not quite shiny, not quite brand new it’s still mine, and my job is to put together alone. It appears to be a very large, complicated puzzle. But as I do the work, as I piece together my life before, after, and beyond I am seeing the whole come together into something more beautiful than I thought it would be.
It is my puzzle after all.

And it is a pretty damn incredible, breathtaking one at that.


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