and so it is

I am 2 days down of a 3 day weekend and I haven’t left my apartment since I got home Friday. I have, on the other hand, done a lot of thinking over the last 2 days.

I’ve contemplated on whether or not we just blow sunshine up our own asses and the asses of others in an attempt to feel better about what we’ve gone through, what we’re going through, and what is yet to come. Mostly in regards to abuse, neglect, being victimized, and any same or similar life tragedies. Do we ever really heal from these things? Do we ever get to know what it means to be truly happy and healthy again, hell, for the first time? Do we ever get to live a life without fear, anxiety, depression, or that God awful ache of the numbness that lives deep inside?

We say things like, “God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle” or “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger”. I call bullshit on these things. These words don’t change anything. God does give us things we can’t handle; how else do we explain suicide? The things that didn’t literally kill me, certainly killed something inside of me. Do these things really make us “stronger” or do we just learn to numb out the pain and suffering? Do we pretend we aren’t suffering as much as we are? Do we put on a strong front because it’s expected of us? Because it’s what we’ve been made to believe? Is it all just sunshine being blown up our asses?

These were my thoughts for the majority of the last 2 days.

But then…

I started questioning why does all of the abuse, neglect, and being victimized stick with us for so many years, for an eternity? Why can we never seem to shake any of it off? Why does it suck the life right out of us? And why do we feel so completely powerless to it?

Wouldn’t be great if I had answers to these questions? I wish I did but, sorry to say, I don’t.

What I do know though, is that I’m really tired of carrying all of this heavy ass baggage around with me all of the time. I am holding on to something and that something is holding on to me. I don’t know what that something is, exactly, but I need to figure out how to let it go because it is holding me down.

I can’t keep succumbing to the weight of what’s been done to me in the past. I have to let it go, I have to move forward. Everyday I am losing another day of my life to my past. What didn’t kill me allowed me to continue to breathe, but I have not been living.

I have a reality. Whether I like it or not, I do; we all do. My reality is this…

I’ve been physically, sexually, mentally, emotionally abused, and I’ve been raped. And that’s just part of my reality. I’ve seen shit no one should see, I’ve been in places no one should go, I’ve heard things I can’t unhear, I know things I can’t unknow, and I’ve experienced things no one should ever have to.

All of those things are my reality. There is not a damn thing I can do to change any of it. I don’t have the power to rewrite history. I can’t pretend I didn’t go through everything I went through. I can’t pretend my reality is different than it actually is. My life was my life. That’s it. Period.

So then what?

So now I need to come to terms with all of it. I need to let go of the anger. I need to let go of the resentment. I need to let go of all of the negative emotions that I hold so tightly. I need to let go and own my reality. Continuing to fight it hasn’t been working too well for me. Now I need to learn to embrace it with compassion rather than to grip it with anger. It is what it is and it just is.

…and so it is.

Their Name

Their Name

Everyone you meet has a part to play in your story. And while some may take a chapter, others a paragraph, and most will be no more than scribbled notes in the margins, someday, you’ll meet someone who will become so integral to your life, you’ll put their name in the title.

-Beau Taplin

When I read the quote by Beau Taplin the first time, it seemed to speak directly to my heart. It is both heartbreaking and heartwarming. It’s true that most people we meet are just scribbled notes in the margins of our story. But even scribbles in a margin can have a deep impact. We’ve all been someone’s scribbled notes.

What some may not know about me is that I am a bit of a romantic. I don’t often write about love unless it includes heartbreak. In large part the reason for this is because I had all but given up entirely on love. What good had come of me loving to this point. It just caused heartache and I had had enough after having my heart shattered. I tried a couple of times, but it just didn’t fit, it wasn’t right. I tried to force it, I tried to feel it, but it just wasn’t working. I couldn’t open my heart to it and at the same time I missed giving love and being loved, just not enough to open up to it again.

It’s been 3 years since my heart was shattered. 3 years since I’ve shut my heart down to the idea that I would ever experience love like that again. 3 years since I’ve had any real interest in a meaningful relationship.

Somewhere along the way in this past year I’ve let go of that hurt, the heartache, and her. She still holds a special place in my heart, but she no longer takes up the majority of it. I’ve moved on. She will forever be a chapter I fondly look back on.

With that said, my heart seems to be opening again. I’ve actually allowed myself to feel excited about the possibility of living happily ever after with the right person. I’m not quite ready to jump back in, I have things I need to work on and process before I will allow myself to become involved with anyone, but I call it progress that I’m even entertaining the idea of putting someone’s name in the title. My next relationship will be different than the rest. This time I will listen to my instincts, this time I will make healthier decisions, this time I will take things slow, this time I will invest more time getting to know one another before jumping in head first, with a little hope and help from a higher power this time will be the last time.