I had an appointment with my therapist yesterday.
I discovered why I am so angry.
Mind you, I’ve been seeing him for over a year.
I left my true self behind many years ago.
It’s as if I walked away from my own funeral before it even began.
I have made bad choices.
The main characters in my life have made many bad choices as well.
I turn 40 in a few months.
I will not grow if I don’t grieve.
Grieve my past.
My ex husband.
I need to tell a story.
A story from the prospective of the girl who lost herself.
That girl is me. 40 going on 14.
If I don’t close my eyes and write from her point of view, I will die like this.
I deserve to be freed, and I believe the world needs to hear my. story
The choices. The losses.
I will never move forward.
Why has it taken me so long to see?
First, I have a great therapist.
Secondly, I hate to feel.
When I feel pain, I shut down, I numb myself.
I drink. I pop pills. I don’t blame myself.
I shift to logic to avoid what’s happening in the pit of my gut.
Because the contents are scary, I am sure.
I am afraid of my own grief.
I have to do this.
I will do this.
I will shed this skin.
Now it’s time to tell my story from a different perspective…..
The girl I left behind.
Maybe then, I will uncover myself.