As a kid my brain was full of thoughts about hating my body, wanting love, trying to think up ways I could finally make myself good enough, fears of losing more people, fears of being yelled at, talked down to. I didn’t worry about the things other kids did, my brain was too busy trying to survive. I have had trouble sleeping for as long as I can remember, I used to have an extremely disordered relationship with food and my body, and I also grew up with an extremely disordered perspective on what love was. When I was older I knew something was wrong, but I assumed it was me. I was built wrong, I was depressed, I was dumb. Not one time did I think maybe I was feeling a natural response to my treatment and circumstances. Not once did I believe that my sensitivity was a gift, or that the problem, in fact, was NOT me.
After I ended the abuse, ended the relationships I then set upon my next venture of healing all their bullshit, healing the years and years of abuse and trauma that was so deep and tangled I honestly spent so much time feeling lost and feeling like I was drowning in it. I still do sometimes, but there is far more time with my head above the water now, and when waves do crash down I am getting better and better at learning how to surf. Once one layer is healed, there’s another deeper layer, a layer I wasn’t ready for before. The one I’m working on now is relearning what love means, and working on processing a shit load of grief at the realization that I was never TRULY loved, not real unconditional love by them. Oof, that was a hard one. I am also working on learning to trust deeply, learning what a family is and what family feels like. Boy, does it ever feel good, but it has a second part for me, the constant comparison of real love, real family to what I grew up with. I had no frame of reference, I was taught one definition of love which meant thats what I had as an expectation. When people gaslighted me, treated me poorly, neglected me or broke trust or boundaries I thought “hey the pain means they love me”….. (ugh) So when I am in situations now where I see my partner have grounded loving conversation with his boys I am in awe. I feel my heart swell up, but I also feel it sink because this is not the love I was taught. When I am given things, or told nice things sometimes my brain looks for the catch, the danger coming, and I get confused when it doesn’t. Its only been four months since I have been in this relationship but it feels like forever in the best way possible. Its been four months of real love and it is probably one of the most healing things that’s happened to me in my whole life.
But I still catch myself stuck in that dark tangly place, where I can’t tell which are my feet, which is my voice, or if I even have a right to them. I still spend a lot of energy healing, feeling, and digging deeper. I don’t often stop and look at how far I’ve come, how big of a deal it is that I am still alive, that I am stable, that I faced everything head on, that I stubbornly kept on going face first onto the hardest path I could have chosen to take. But fuck it, here I am, I’ve come this far, may as well keep fighting on it eh?
Thank you, so fucking much. I am so appreciative of all of you, and I absolutely love when people reach out to me to talk or connect. That stuff is some of the best shit in life, connecting with people on such a deep vulnerable way as to share emotional experiences. So please do feel free to reach out, if you have questions, if you want to talk, if you have something to share, or whatever. Okay? If you want to support in another way you could share this blog with someone, or donate to my Ko-fi account- I’ll link it here: ko-fi.com/brutallyhonestborderline
PS. let me just say too, that I’m not special. There are plenty of people who have been through hell and back, and we are each on our own path to healing (or avoiding). I don’t ever see myself as any better or more special than anyone else.