Why does it feel so taboo to write about family? I hate that. My story is a complex one but I know it’s made me who I am today. I look forward to the day when i can share more. Here’s something I wrote two years ago. For some context this writing came after dealing with physical abuse in my family.
I think I’ll continue to share my writings even if they’re not current because these are the words that have gotten me here:

I don’t know what it is right now but it hurts. It all hurts really bad even though I had a good day. 

So why? Why does it have to hurt? Why do I have to feel like this? Im exhausted from feeling like this. Completely worn out. 

My heart is aching. The ache is so deep I can never reach it. Ill never be able to get down to it. That’s what it physically feels like. Like I can pinpoint it in my chest. Like its buried down deep in my soul. My soul is hurt..

Is it possible to still be sad that someone hurt me like that? Do I really have a right to be hurt? 

It feels like I’m too damaged to get back to being okay. That’s really scary to me. Like this feeling is forever. I can’t be like this forever. 

I’m too entangled in my own mind so I know I need help unraveling all of this. 

Please help.

I’m so tired of appearing so strong and okay because the truth is I’m so broken. I’m so fragile. I can cry for hours by myself but never in front of anyone. 

It doesn’t feel okay to be questioning things that are supposed to be true. I know that my parents are human and humans make mistakes so I shouldn’t hold this against them. How would they feel if they ever knew how I really feel about them? That’s why I have to be so careful about what I say about them, how I act around them. Because I can’t allow myself to go down the road of letting out how I really feel about them because it would crush them. I don’t want to do that to them. I don’t want to hurt them.

They’re hurting too. They have to be. I can see it in their eyes- the hurt. Is that from me?

Is love supposed to hurt? Nice words only lead to mean actions. Is it supposed to hurt when someone says something nice to me? Is this really what love is? Love is fucking scary. Love fucking sucks. Don’t love me. Don’t hurt me. 

It doesn’t even feel like enough to say I’m hurt because its more than that but I can’t put it into words.

What do I do now?

Now that I’m not in the safe room in counseling. Now that I’m not in front of someone who is helping me. 

Talk to someone else?

THERE IS FUCKING NO ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS THIS. NO ONE!!!

DONT YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD THAT IS. HOW MUCH IT HAS FUCKED ME UP. IT HAS WRECKED ME. IM IN SHREDS.

How can I be the one who is ruining the family????? I fucking saved this family!!

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I share all my writings with C.

I wish you could see it how I see it –  I said those exact words to C in her office. And you know what she said – I wish you could see it how I see it . 

WOW. That really hit me hard. She said the exact same thing to me that I said to her but she said it in love. She said it from a different perspective. She said it in a way that made me feel heard. What if I believed the truth – got down to the very core of everything and just believed the truth about what happened?

What would that do for my confidence?

What would that do for my progress?

In the midst of all this confusion, I think it would really help me to just dig down to the facts. Forget every opinion, reaction, and response about what happened and focus solely on what happened:

Every day I have a choice about who I am. I can either believe the truth or I can choose to head into the downward spiral that I’ve let define me for far too long.

There’s more I want to share but it doesn’t feel safe for me just yet. I already feel so honored and thankful to have this blogging community. I want to share my story but I want to feel ready too. I never want to betray any part of myself. Remember Maggie, it’s okay to go at your own pace.

xx