Those years were mine and he took them.

I think i have moved past something, and yet weeks go past and I find it still there hiding beneath a rock in my heart. I thought I had finished grieving for everything lost. But I haven't. There is still a part of me that mourns, what could have been. These days it is not so much the in-tangibleness of the life I would have led if this had never happened. Rather, it is the years lost to the depression that followed. The opportunities I could not savor because I was simply trying to hang on to living. The moments of happiness lost in those years. The experiences I could have and should have had. Gone.

I lost 2 years to the abuse itself. I spent the next two years in denial. And then it knocked me off my feet for the next five years as I fought depression. That is nine years. That is 1/3 of my life. Twisted, impact, changed. And its not fair.

I wish I could explain to him all that I lost. I still have moments where I wish his life was hallow and empty. Not to be spiteful, but because I still hurt. I still grieve. I still mourn. I want all those years back, I want and deserve to have had them filled with happiness. I don't know how you get over it, besides putting one foot in front of the other until the 9 years shrinks with the perception of time and distance. While the weight of the loss gets smaller as new memories are made, the underlying truth never disappears: I should never have lost all those years and I want them back.

stark truths

I feel like I need to say something, document hopes and dreams. If only to stand in contrast to the hurt and despair contained within these pages.

In my heart I still hold a fear, a fear that this time too my world will collapse. I don't know if that feeling will ever leave. Because it is not so much a fear, as an awareness. One that is not irrational. It is a stark truth. A necessary evil. Its presence a reflection of the innocence I loss. The naivety taken away.

I understand that I can get through most anything. There is a strength in the knowledge of resilience, knowing that this too shall pass. Promise lying in the knowledge that if only you can stick it through it will get better.

I no longer mourn what was. What could have been. Mourn the years lost. The person changed. I am here. I cannot change that. I have come to terms with that at the least. I know there is evil in the world. But it is tempered by hope and compassion.

Milan Kundera

The basis of shame is not some personal mistake of ours, but the ignominy, the humiliation we feel that we must be what we are without any choice in the matter, and that this humiliation is seen by everyone.

Kahlil Gilbran

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

Rose Kennedy

“It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

Dear Younger Me,

It has been twenty years since the abuse started. Three years lost to the abuse. A year to the aftermath. Then you picked up your feet and moved forward, went to college. You coped by living, but you lacked the confidence to stay strong in the wake of fear. When your last grain of trust was broken, you felt alone and being with yourself was the last place you wanted to be. You were scared and you fell apart.

Sweet child, it is okay. It is alright to stumble. It's okay to fall. You shouldn't feel shame about that period in your life. You should feel proud that you stood back up. You should feel pride at the courage it took to dust off your pants, seek help, and keep living. You are courageous. You are strong. Remember life is not measured by what has happened to you, but by how you respond to it. You responded gallantly. Be kind to yourself. Someday this will all be a blip on a your history, an experience that will fill you with compassion. I hope you can find pride in what you have been through. That the guilt and the shame would be no more.

I want to tell you that life is easy from here on out. That the days ahead will make up for the past. I know that is what you want to hear. But I can't tell you the future. I can't assure you that you will make no mistakes, that you'll never made the wrong choice. I can't tell you that you'll never be hurt, have your heartbroken, or lose your way. I want to tell you that you will be loved, that you'll feel secure, that you'll be fulfilled. Because you deserve those things. You deserve so much more.

What I can tell you is that as long as there is a future there is hope. You can do anything you want with your life. But there is a difference between wanting and working for it. If you want your degree, if you want to work abroad, if you want to support a family, if you want to feel secure, you are going to have to work for it. But you knew that already. You also know, that it is those things that you have to work for the hardest that mean the most.

Work hard because you want those things, not because you feel you have to in order to measure up, in order to feel worthy or of value. You don't need to prove yourself to anyone but yourself. You never need to live up to anyone's expectations but your own. You are intrinsically worthy, no one can take that away. If I had a wish for you, it would be that you felt free and unburdened to live without grief, or fear. Living with a open heart, in addition to your open mind.

I know you didn't think it would happen. You didn't think your heart could ever heal. But unbeknownst to you, it has. Think about all the relationships in your life. The people you love. It is proof that you have overcome. Proof that you are okay. Proof that you can be and do whatever you want.

-Me
*This is part of a series of letters I have written in counseling.

Ironies of Anniversaries

There is an irony existing in my life these days. A week from today is the eight year anniversary of when my abuse began to be made public. I woke up that morning and went on a 15 mile bike ride. It was a crisp fall day, warm with blue skies. I rode from my house up through the wineries and back. It was perfect. It was also my abuser's birthday and I thought about him all day. I didn't talk to him, but I wanted to. It was also the day that a women he had an affair with came forward, causing people to doubt the person he was. Fueled by this doubt in his integrity, they started digging deep into my abuser's life and found his relationship with me at the bottom.

My counselor said recently that I need to actively make new memories to associate with this time of the year. I've been actively doing that these last weeks. Sometimes to a fault. I've made myself so busy I don't have time to think on all these anniversaries. I've been so busy hanging with friends, working, applying to new jobs that I couldn't remember any of the 'dates' that I had clung to. But I didn't want it sneaking up on me, so I sought it out in a moment of downtime, when I knew I would have time to process things.

What I discovered is that a week from today, on the anniversary of when my world began to fall apart, I will actively take a step to build my life now. A week from today, I begin a new job. A good, amazingly paying, respectful job. I've been working and working hard these last 18 months as I fought off the holds of depression. But the depression caused me to question my worth, to doubt myself and my abilities, and to undervalue myself. With each week, I've gotten a bit better. I think the new job is like a big bright sign in the sky that says "I am no longer depressed!" I guess the irony for me is that this day of triumph, would be eight years to the day that it all began to feel apart in the first place.

Laughing at the irony is not what I expected when I sat down to look at the calendar and inevitably re-live that confusing time in my life. But that my response would be laughter says something in itself. God, I am so thankful to be here.

Dear Me,

Once again you are at an anniversary of the days where your life was spinning off its axis. It has been years. Yet, it feels like just yesterday. It feels like just a moment ago that you sunk onto that turquoise carpet. You couldn't hold it in anymore and you broke down in tears. No one in the world understood. No one could know. Your world was shattering and you couldn't tell a soul.

Its so funny to be on the flip side. To have your life come into focus and be able to tell anyone and everyone. Well maybe not quite everyone. But the people it truly matters to share it with, you have already told them.

Years ago you stood in front of a mirror and no longer saw yourself. That moment was a beautiful blessing. Because you got to start over. Yes, you brought history and baggage, but you got the opportunity to start over. You had to feel your way at times, but you will grow into a woman you can be proud of.

It will take you four years to fight for your life back. There will be time lost to depression. But please, please, please, don't give in. Wake up every morning. Put one foot in front of the morning and eventually you will live again.

I wish you didn't have to go through the years ahead of you, but you do. They will shape you and mold you. You will have sympathy, empathy, and integrity in spades. You will have work ethic, and compassion, and understand the truly important things. It will not be easy getting there, but it will be okay. In the midst of the hard days remember that. It will be okay.

With much love,
You. Me. Us.

Grieving a Piece of Me

"It's always good to have a master plan in life. Call it a goal, guiding force, whatever you need to stay determined and focused.Then be prepared for the derailments. The times when life just doesn't work out the way you anticipated. The times when it seems most unfair, and you find yourself walking through some alternate reality, sure that the one you're living can't be yours because something went wrong. Something threw you off course. Those moments that rock you to the inner core, shake you in such a way that once the dust settles, you're left missing a piece of yourself forever."

I could have read this a week ago and it would not have sucked the air out of my lungs quite like it did today.  I spoke virtually the same words today in counseling.  I have come to the conclusion that I need to grieve for a while.  The person I would have been otherwise.  Without the unstable home, without the abuse, without the depression.  Without these things that have built into each other.  

My counselor said something that struck me today.  She said unless I dream and I fight for those dreams I am going to end up grieving for this time in my life too.  I don't want to grieve.  I want to live.  Ironically I am so fearful of losing a part of me by some derailment of my life, that I am having trouble reaching for those dreams.  But if I don't reach I will end up losing another piece of myself anyway.

Grrr... I thought I was done with posting here and being angry and sad. But I guess its never really completely gone from my life.

Moving Out

Shortly before starting this blog, I moved home.  I didn't know where else to go.  I know in some ways it was the best thing for me. When I moved back home, I never foresaw myself being here two years. In those two years I was able to become emotionally stable and did a bunch of growing up. I spread my wings.  I jumped.  I soared.  But it has been more than two years and I've been talking about moving out for a long time now, except the truth is I don't want to move out.  It's not that I'm not ready.  Because God knows I am.  But rather moving out means moving in somewhere and that feels permanent.  Not in the sense that I could never move back in, but in the sense that I am not moving back to the life I had.

I so desperately want to make my life into as close a replica to that old life.  I know I've made choices and doors have closed, but not all have.  And it would be different, but getting there would not be easy.  I feel torn like life puts you on a path and you should just keep walking on it.  But I want to go back so desperately.  There was happiness there and I want that again.