ptsd

I am fine.  Now.

It happened 38 years ago, 36 years ago...  33 years ago...  and in the fuzzy, weird times in between.  I made myself forget.

So then there was the silence...  Then there was angst and struggle in my young adult life.  I broke apart.

I tried to do therapy about concrete things in the present tense, and then uncomfortable things bubbled up.  I ignored them.

Finally, after much angst and acting out, I found good teachers and therapists who helped me see that the way out of the pain was through the pain.

I did that.  And I did that.  And I did that.  I have beautiful, sad journals stretching back twenty years.  I was so brave in those journals.  Just seeing the pictures I made splits me:  I am the sad person who created the journals, and I am the editor/creative-coach who is stunned by the real journey being shared (by me).

I have made a beautiful journey, but it has not brought me freedom.

I think I need to torch it all.  Every time I find these boxes that hold pictures, journals, correspondence, I feel re-injured by what happened to me.

It's time to move forward -- all around.  I can't let E find these journals.  She's starting to read.  In fact, just tonight we sounded out the word "hit."

Comments

[Account Deleted]

Kudos to E for sounding out 'hit' and kudos to you for feeling that it's time to move forward....

much love to you....

[moiraeknittoo]

I hear you and totally understand. I've been dealing with what sounds like similar issues myself...I've been likening it to trying to diffuse both cluster bombs and landmines, only on the emotional level. Incredibly hard work, but maybe one day I'll clear myself a path to freedom.

You're in my thoughts and good vibes going your way.

[Stephanie]

Wow, that's a really big deal, thinking about parting with those things as a part of the healing process.

E starting to read, that's so exciting! That has been one of my favorite things, listening to my daughter read. It's exhilarating every time!