Dear Diary: I'm Still Hurting

She is still Me

Dear Diary,

My divorce is still in the process of being finalized, I hope it's soon. The more I think about him, the more I realize how much better life is without him. No, I don't miss him. Not even the "good times," because the bad times far surpassed the brief moments of bliss and joy. They were short and sweet, while the suffering was long and aching. I have a new partner now who brings so much euphoria and pure happiness. I still have nightmares, though, and they've only become more up to date with these new life changes. When I was a little girl, my nightmares were that I would lose my mom - and I did. When I was married, my nightmares were that he would admit he didn't love me and that he had been cheating on me - and he did. Now, they're similar with my new partner, and I have to fight and exhaust myself battling these world-shattering scenarios my subconscious creates which rob me of my sleep. He reassures me, but I've been told that no one can reassure me out of the damage that my trauma has caused. I shouldn't put the responsibility of my trust fully on his shoulders. By that, I mean I know I need to work on my own trauma which causes my trust issues in the first place. He can't heal me; he can only do so much.

My grandma died recently, and I wasn't as devastated as most would be. My devastation came solely from the fact that this broke my mom's heart, possibly beyond the point of ever being repaired. I've been trying to comfort her as the reality of mortality sits beside me, reminding me that it is inevitable and that one day, I will lose my mom again, even though I never really got her back. The absolutely devastating need to take care of my mom has been with me my entire life, and one of the hardest things about being so far away from her is that I can't do anything but listen to her cry on the phone, and struggle to breathe without her oxygen. I haven't seen her in almost three years.

September 8th would have been my baby's birthday, if I hadn't lost them shortly after my own birthday in January. It's incredible, the feeling of loss over a small piece of yourself that you never even got to meet in person. No matter how many words of sympathy and encouragement come my way, every single month when I get my period I sob and whisper to myself - "I miss my baby. I just want my baby back."

I haven't been able to afford rent, utilities, or any other bills/necessities since October. I fear eviction, homelessness, the loss of my pets (including my ESA), the loss of everything constantly. I can't always afford my psychiatric medications or psychiatrist appointments, if I can't get a ride to the pet food bank then my pets won't eat, I have at least three unpaid hospital bills and one unpaid ambulance bill, and nothing feels secure even in the slightest. I thought by 27 I wouldn't have to worry about having my home ripped away from me again. Here I am, though, sleeping in a bed that I'm trying not to get too attached to in case I can't afford to keep it for myself.

With all of this being said, I still have to sell myself as a happy, thankful, grateful, positive, appreciative, put-together, in-control, on top-of-everything, satisfied adult so that I don't lose clients (as I work freelance, it is my only source of income, my livelihood) or worry anyone to the point of having me hospitalized. I can't make anyone worry for me, so I keep all those worries in my heart, and it hurts terribly. It bleeds at the cracks and is bursting at the seams, and I have no idea what is keeping it all from falling apart. I feel as if any minute my spirit will fall to its knees as it's had to hold on for too long, and those seems will break and everything that is happening now, and everything that has happened until now, will flood my body and my nervous system won't be able to handle even a small percentage of it. I want the same things I wanted as a little girl, sleeping on a blanket on the floor of a roach infested apartment. To be loved, to be safe, and to have peace. I don't even think I would recognize peace at this point. In fact, if I were to feel peace, it may be too much for me to handle. I've been in survival mode for over two decades without a break. How can anything ever feel peaceful when every time security is presented to me, it's only presented in the form of a prize to be won from the battle I've been fighting all along.

It feels as if a new chapter in my life is beginning, but the pages are blank, bent, torn, and tearstained. I haven't read the book that is my life from start to finish yet, as I'm only a quarter of the way through living it. I hope, though, that regardless of where it ends, it ends with peace, and that the end itself brings with it peace.