You Make It Sound So Easy

I received this comment from someone who is hurting on my post "Don't Be An Idiot." I assume it is a woman and she said... 

"I read this and it made me cry. You make it sound so easy. I have followed you for a long time and I get inspired by your honesty about your struggles, but then I get sad because I can't seem to get passed the pain like you have."

My intention was never to make "it" sound anyway.  I have struggled a bit with how much to share here. As I have mentioned before when I first started writing this blog it was for me and my daughter and no one read it. I wrote what I felt without regard to anyone else, but as people started to read and as women started to come forward and tell me I was helping them, I did feel a responsibility to be strong.  I was in many ways strong, but even on days I wasn't, I tried to be.  I think there are several posts on here that show just how "not easy" it has been for me. Everything I have said was/is honest and true, but it isn't the entire picture of me or my life.  I didn't write every single time I had a hard day. It hasn't been easy.

Some struggles I didn't share because I wasn't ready.  I wrote several times about "his" breath on my neck, posted the post and then went back and removed it.  Reading it made me sick.  I wanted to be honest, but I couldn't be.  Those days were the days I wanted to scream and yell and I would write a crazy venting post and then I would stuff it.  I never fully lost it, but there have been glimpses. I felt ashamed that I had covered up so much of my attack, but I just couldn't have those words out there yet, so many times I took them back.  I was ashamed and embarrassed, but I didn't want to be.  I was internally and externally fighting myself.  I didn't want to be sad or hurt, but I was and as I tried to process that, sometimes I wasn't able to share it fully. Things came out ugly and disjointed or at least that is how it felt. I wanted people to see the reality of what I was going through, I just didn't always know how. I didn't want to paint a rosy picture, but I also wanted to do things that would help me move on positively. That in itself was a struggle.  It was not easy.

Some struggles I couldn't write about because they involved other people. When E was hurting and my 13 year old was angry and my marriage was aching, I couldn't write that.  I couldn't hurt them anymore than I already had.  That 2 month period of hell was excruciating. It was during this time I met Arete.  My mind, unconscious to me, saw him as a safe place. I didn't know him well.  He was nice, but I knew he didn't care about me; I couldn't hurt him physically, emotional or mentally, so my mind let me unload.  Unfortunately, this was not really constructive unloading.  I didn't talk about my attack or my fears or anything rational, I would just lose my mind and say incoherent crazy things. Fortunately, it was a pretty short breakdown. When I say breakdown, I mean when I was around him or would talk to him I was crazy, but when I wasn't I was fine.  It was a very strange time. It was the most miserable I had ever been, but I also had moments of great joy. It was the end of many things, but it was also start of me finding my place again. As insane as that period was, it was good. Letting myself hurt was a great catalyst(an agent that provokes or speeds significant change or action).  It was what I needed and it was the beginning of a very healing time in my life. But, it was not easy.

I had been moving forward almost since the first day after the mugging with a few set backs here and there. I can honestly say everyday has been a step forward into a better, happier life. But, it was not easy.

I was determined.  From the minute "he" got off of me and I got into my car, I was determined. I was determined to not only learn how not to be a victim, but to be secure and happy again inside myself. The fear, the pain, the loss, the uncertainty, the set backs, didn't stop me.  I was resolute in my determination not to let him win.  I was determined to have a life of joy and of peace.  All my energy went into that and for the past 14 months, that has been my constant focus. But it was not easy. 

As I worked through the pain, as people supported me and offered me advice I was able to add tools to my healing kit.  Bit by bit, I decided I would not feel guilty anymore.  That I would not feel ashamed.  That even when I said or did something embarrassing I wasn't going to beat myself up. Writing was very cathartic for me, but I had to follow through.  I had to not only write I wasn't ashamed, I had to have the courage to say the things I had been hiding.  I know that words are helpful, but the action of doing, that is what heals.  Writing this blog may have helped a few folks, but my words only having meaning if they inspire action. The power is in the doing. But, it won't be easy.

I am not a counselor, I don't know how to help anyone beyond listening and sharing my story.  Maybe something I have done or haven't done will help, but I think the most helpful thing I can do is offer you encouragement. I think it is important to find something positive that you can do to help yourself and if the first thing doesn't work, keep looking. Maybe my story is discouraging to you, then please look somewhere else until you find someone doing something healthy for themselves that maybe you can relate to.  I did not seek counseling, but that was probably a mistake.  There is no shame in doing so.  Reach out and keep reaching out.  It most certainly, will not be easy, but easy or not, you have to fight for what you want, for what matters to you.

This journey has been painful and it has sucked in every possible way, and some of my days have been dark and filled with much sadness, but I have been able to find ways to turn all that nastiness into a whole heck of a lot of good.  I have said it before, but I will say it again, I am calmer, happier, and more fulfilled than I have ever, ever been.  I am so sorry if I ever made it sound easy. It hasn't been easy, but it has been worth the fight.