I refuse to turn on the internet until I start getting paychecks from the new district. I start working at the new school the first week of August, but I won’t be getting paid until the last week of September. That sucks. A lot. So no Internet, no tv…just a smart phone, some books, a girl and her dog. It’s pretty peaceful, actually. Unplugging has really helped me solidify some happiness that I hadn’t anticipated staying around so long. It’s also made the time between each post ridiculously long.
It’s not a hassle to take care of myself anymore. Sometimes, I even find myself taking time away to pamper myself. Which is good since my new therapist told me I need to focus on doing that for the first few weeks of sessions.
I met her for the first time last Wednesday. She was nice, young-enough looking, and her clothes were professional enough (but still trendy), so I think that we can get along. She understood, almost immediately, that my biggest struggle is with myself.
I’m okay owning up to past events. My name is Fina. I was abused. But I’m not okay with my participation in the whole thing.
The girl before the abuse.
The girl in the abusive relationship (the victim).
The girl trying to live with the fact that she has a whole lot of life left to live.
Each girl talks to me on her own time. When I need to be strong or meet new people I’m the girl before the abuse. If I need to avoid confrontation, the victim easily takes over…but the girl that’s here now, well, she’s not really sure where she fits in yet. So I’m hoping my therapist can help me with that. She says that it’s great that I can analyze my growth/development in this way. And that it means that I’ve done most of the work on my own, claiming that I could go really far with three months of sessions. That was the first time I doubted her. She says I’m just doubting myself. I know she’s right.
We went over the basics at our first meeting, yet I still left and cried all day. Everything triggered tears.
Anyway, I go again next Wednesday morning. She forewarned me that we’d be talking about the actual events soon. I know this whole thing is going to be painful, but I’m uncertain that I really remember what that pain feels like. I guess I’m just going to take it one day at a time, and realize that, if I could walk away from the relationship, I can certainly deal with the aftermath. After all, if I want to move forward, away from the James era of chasing something that was never going to happen, I have to allow myself to believe that I deserve more than that. I’ll get there.
It’s days like today that I feel a bit proud. It’s not easy to talk about this stuff. Most people can’t understand what I’ve been through. Some do, but refuse to talk about it, because it triggers their own pain. And some are so personally hurt by my situation that they focus far too much on their hurt than on the fact that I took the worst of it. Through all of that, I’m not blaming anyone else for not being there for me. I’m understanding that it’s the card that I was dealt and I need to learn to do things on my own anyway. Maybe I’ve just always expected others to pick me up. Maybe now’s the time for me to let go of all of that.
I’m doing alright on my own. My name is Fina. I’m a survivor. I don’t need anyone else to help me back to my feet, because I’m not letting anyone knock me off of them anymore.