I’ve lain bleeding, broken in spirit, believing it would always be so. I’ve crawled, dragging myself towards the light of the day and finally, finally stood outside feeling the warmth of the sun. Now after walking into the light of day, of living my life, fully living in the sun, comes the unknown.
It is becoming time to walk through all of what life has to toss my way, to take that walk alone. This excites me, moves me further to a place of happiness each day, each week. Yet I feel sadness because it is becoming time to be finished in my ‘safe place’.
I never thought this day would come.
Two years ago I was barely living. I was hiding from the world, a world I no longer wanted to be part of. A world which had been so violent, so cruel in all it’s twists of fate, of mistaken identity. A world which had caused me to make a choice I wish I could take back. A life or death choice I continued to punish myself for over a decade’s time. Two years ago I had approached the precipice of wanting to be extinguished and had simply stopped.
I had stopped eating, never leaving the house, sometimes not bathing for a week at a time, I stayed in pajamas all the time and stared at the shows on the TV not even comprehending what I was seeing. No one acknowledged my brain injury for nearly 9 months and only after I had been put on progesterone worsening the symptoms of brain injury was this taken seriously. I hated my days, I hated my life, I hated myself. The memories I’d kept filed away, those memories had flown out of the filing cabinet and I could not escape them. They haunted me every waking moment, they seeped into my dreams causing me to wake up screaming at the top of my lungs frightening my family. My children who are adults, managed me all the time and because I knew enough to know what that looked like I was full of anger, anger I could never hide.
This is who I was a mere two years ago. Walking through that door, the first day into therapy I knew without a doubt I needed to be there and yet I did not want to be. I simply couldn’t conceive of getting better, of healing. I knew, I knew who I had been, what I was capable of and all I wanted was to get it out of me and be done. Then I could be done.
These two years have been the hardest in my life. I have fought the good fight to find myself again, to hang up all the personas, the masks of who I had become in order to survive. This new year is one I finally can say honestly; “I look forward to what this year holds for me.”
This new year will bring the time of closure to therapy. This is exciting and also very sad to me. The person who I sat across from week after week has been my ‘safe place’, the one I could share all my most horrendous secrets until I finally was able to find myself again. All this time has not been wasted time, it has been worth the wild roller coaster ride to find myself, the real me underneath all the layers I had covered her up with.
Into the unknown.
It’s really kind of exciting to see what this new year will bring and to discover the woman I will find there. Because I really want to keep getting acquainted with her.