I had a bit of an epiphany this morning as I read the comments to my post from yesterday.
Yesterday was a very bad day, I was alone much of the day, then alone with the responsibility of two children in the evening. I missed my husband and the comfort and security his presence brings. I was not in a good place at all, very afraid, paranoid and frankly quite unwell. I was physically sick with the PTSD symptoms. I couldn’t eat, I felt like I could barely breathe at times.
I couldn’t reach out for help, I didn’t want anyone to see me in that state. As I wrote yesterday, I feel like I have lost a part of myself by doing just that earlier this week. I couldn’t ask for help, I just couldn’t.
Today is a little different, I guess I feel a little more positive. While I don’t feel better- I am as ill as yesterday, I suppose, I am just more accepting of it all. The suffocating anxiety, the deep and agonising pain and I feel more broken than ever. I have stopped fighting it though and that is a relief.
This week is not turning out to be about recovery and healing in the way I thought it might be. It is not recuperating in the way I hoped. Instead it seems to be that it is more about finally letting go of the control a bit.. however scary that may be. It seems I am finally sitting with my feelings and I think that may be more about healing and recovery than I could have ever imagined.
Admitting the truth is something I did some time ago, but feeling it is another matter. It is a whole new level of acceptance. You see, not only do I know, I remember it now. How it felt to be so trapped. Imprisoned in hell. Even when the door was wide open, there was still no way out for me. I may as well have been in chains, I could not leave. He had every part of me. He destroyed me. He broke my spirit and he shattered my soul.
And now here I sit, in this brokenness, hoping that soon, I will find the way out.
Sit with me? It is such a lonely place to be.