Good question.

I’m here, I think. Trying to understand… Myself. Who I’ve started to become.

I don’t think people (some more than others) realize how difficult it is to explain to someone how you feel. How awful and miserable it is. You convey the desperation of your situation and how it just feels neverending.

It

Just

Won’t

…..

Stop.

I begin where I’ve generally began. Where things started to change for me. 11 years old and then 14 years old. And so on.. I think I stopped mentally being able to connect with many people after I turned .. 19? Everything just unraveled. Unparalleled. In my PTSD, I’ve been in a mental prison. I’ve been replaying certain scenes from in my lifetime during those difficult formative years. Everyone in my view of things…. Didn’t accept me. No matter how hard I tried. Even misguided, I wanted someone to accept me. I just couldn’t figure out how to get there.

I couldn’t understand how my therapist couldn’t get what I meant about things being just so. Not straying far from exact. No deviation. My reality was my own. I couldn’t break that stigma. The judgment. The depression and anxiety. Everyone was a threat to me and my well-being. Does that make sense to anyone?

You? No….? ….. Really…..?

Shit.

To me, it did. And I can see where I was wrong. About not asking for help. Not seeing what others are in me, in a bad way. That I’m worthy of care. I’ve started to use cleanser on my face! I didn’t do that. I use lotion more. I engage in conversations with people I don’t know. And it’s getting easier.

I’m creating new memories and embracing that even if the day isn’t perfect, (House looks perfect, towels look perfectly folded, kitchen looks perfect….) chances are it was still okay.

It’s okay to tell people what I do not accept. The way I’m treated. The way I’m talked to. And how I need to move on in my life. I’m getting older. I have an amazing husband. A car that gets me place to place. A job that provides me opportunity to grow and a pay rate I’d never experienced before. I can feel confident and comfortable.

Sure, I’m brash sometimes. Sarcastic? Absolutely. I enjoy The Gilmore Girls as if it were freshly aired from the beginning. I try to have fun. Laugh, even when it doesn’t seem to fit. Yet, oddly sometimes happens. In a good way. I love dogs. Unapologetically.

I want my life to be different. And that’s what it has always has been. I was different by what broke me.

Now I’m different because I’m learning to live. For me.