It’s been a year since my world fell apart. 365 days of pure horror. A year since the day I came home from work and found that Alex had used my son Rowans face like a punching bag. A year since my heart broke when his small voice told me Alex had punched him. It seemed to pass in slow motion. But sitting her a year later I can’t believe I survived it.
The year passed like a slow burn. Fondly called my WTF year. I survived trauma, abuse, homeless, poverty and more trials than any one person should have had to survive. But I’m here, still standing still trying to make a life for myself.
I carry the scars, may of them. The hurt, the disappointment, the horror, all behind me. I’m still trying to clean up the rest of the wreckage my overloaded mind created. The situations I found myself in and the trouble I caused. Speeding tickets, wrecked cars, canceled auto insurance and past due stamped on every bill that comes in the mail. It’s a mess but at least I’m no longer living in parking lots and having to shower at work, find creative ways to do my laundry and boosting for food. Now life is a bit simpler. I have a home base to come back to each day and relax. No more sleeping with one eye open waiting for someone to try and rob me or worse. No more stealing food or clothing so I could survive. It’s all in the past. Memories I don’t look back on fondly at all. I try to remind myself I did what I had to do to survive. My sins hopefully to be forgiven because of my then circumstances.
Kerry, my therapist, keeps telling me I should be proud of what I accomplished. Although proud isn’t a word I’d use. Yes I survived, yes I put together pieces of my fractured life, but I lost myself in the process. The blind trust I used to hand out like penny candy gone. I reserve trust for special occasions. The person I was? Weak, unsure of myself, afraid to say or do anything to upset the people in my life? All gone, swept away in the trauma I survived. I’ll never be the same, I’m sure of it. I hadn’t known how to set boundaries. To call Alex out when she mistreated Rowan. To stop letting others use me as a door mat. I’ve grown into a different person. Harder, more self-aware. My protective armor now welded in place to protect myself for whatever is out there trying to knock me down. I’ve worked hard to become the woman I am today. I still have a long way to go but I’m sure I’ll get there, one mistake at a time.
I’m still rebuilding, one piece at a time,
K.