It’s Getting Darker Here

The sun is fading earlier now and, with this change, comes others that I’ve known were inevitable. The memories of those two years of life come quicker, I’m having nightmares again, and he’s always on my mind. Of course, this is to be expected while healing. Facing it all takes more courage than it did to stay and even more than it did to leave, and I’m finding that I’m stronger than I’ve ever acknowledged. Still, the pain cuts deep, the light dims faster, and my happiness grows and fades at an accelerated pace.

Today I’m sad yet hopeful. School is starting again. I think it’ll bring back a bit of consistency that I’ve lacked over the last two months. I’m hoping it keeps me busy enough that my brain doesn’t wander back to the emptiness. Work allows me to give love freely. I really need that strength right now.

I’m angry at him again. In fact, this weekend, while with friends that I rarely get to see, it was hard for me to say “I’ve forgiven him.” A phrase I’ve uttered so many times over the past year is difficult to speak again. So I’m really struggling with being pleased with this process. It’s as if I have to move backward first. Back toward the things I’ve fought so long to walk away from. Love or hate them, you can’t deny that these words speak my truth.

Last Wednesday, at my fourth session, my therapist forced me to discuss my family. Our dynamic and my role in it. I walked out of the hour with her feeling as if I’ll always be the black sheep and, maybe, the best I can do is learn to accept that and deal with it. But, again, that’s all on me.

While I know that I can’t control other people, their feelings, thoughts, and/or beliefs, it still pisses me off that I have to deal with how they’ve changed me. It seems so tragically sad that people, who are supposed to love you unconditionally, can be so mean, so ignorant to this, and so oblivious to their role. I won’t deny that I’ve made decisions that have hurt others, but my participation is always acknowledged and, eventually, I try to fix my mistakes.  I can’t say this human right has ever been reciprocated to me by the people who would help the most.

This week I was only told to pay attention to how our revelations made me feel. I’m not supposed to act on them. So I sit and think about them, I cry about them, and I think about hitting my head against the wall because of them. I don’t act on the anger or sadness. I just let them sit there…and I document them, so that I can take the notes back for our next session where we’ll rip open wounds that I have forgotten exist.

I started this blog a year ago. Really, one year ago this week. Did you know that? I didn’t expect this is where I would be sitting, how I would be feeling, a year after I started writing this. And although my expectations of myself are always unrealistic, this one might sting the most. I don’t know if I wanted to be loved more, love myself more, or give love others more but there was a want that has yet to be met. It’s disappointing.

August is going to be the hottest month of the year. It’s also setting itself up to be the darkest. With that said, I’m going to be forced to invest in a better flashlight. I can make it through this. It’s just going to take a while.


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