Last night was a big night, and a lot of my brokenness came out. See, I occasionally give off the signal that I’m a wild bitch when I get upset and to most people it’s quite off-putting and I understand that perfectly why it would be. It’s not attractive and it begs the question of why to stay in such a toxic environment where the triggers are many and varied. What most people don’t want to consider and it’s hard to talk about why I’m like that. Underneath all this collected nature and power and sheer will and tunnel vision is a person who’s hurting so badly.
There’s a tumour inside me from decades of abuse and I’ve not survived it in a sense. It put me back so many years in my social development and emotional understanding of the world and it just makes me confused and scared. I’ve always done what I thought was necessary to propagate my existence and the first time I got respect was when I fought back. To someone like me, who was feeling entirely alone and unloved, this became the key. It wasn’t great, but it was my first taste of justice. It’s hard to make friends with that mentality.
What I’m trying to say is, I want to get out of the survivor mindset because that’s all I’ve been for a while. Some might argue that what I survived is nothing worthy of being called survival, that’s their opinion and their life path. I, for one, believe in myself and that I can do more than what I am now to improve and grow from this little messy corner of an otherwise pretty remarkable mind. Another day, another step forward, a new leaf in my story.