I’m not okay, and I know it’s okay to not be okay, and I’m being patient and accepting of the not-okay. It’s been hard, though,
Yesterday, I achieved the impossible. I achieved balance. I woke up early, as I usually tend to. I worked out. I did laundry. I vacuumed.
Even years after going no contact the abuser will pop into your head sometimes. And it’s okay to feel a burst of rage at them.
If they tried to assert their dominance like they used to, you wouldn’t care anymore. You would see them for who they are; a scared, frightened, cowardly soul who is unable to confront the reality of their existence.
The walls I’ve worked so hard to dismantle suddenly emerged from the ground on every side of me, and slammed closed with a massive clanging sound over my head. I was surrounded by heavy gray stone all around and above me. No doors, no windows, no light. Just me, huddled inside a cell of my own making, in self-enforced solitary confinement.
For the first time in ages, I have a Saturday with nothing on my calendar. One of the things that kept me so busy recently