I've decided I'm going to end this with the official statement of my parents divorce.
Surprised that this is an ongoing story? Sometimes I surprise myself with the want to talk about what is going on in my life right now. But I thought I would catch things up:
I feel like I'm right back to where I started. I don't know where the triggers came from, but I started to want to hurt myself.Bad. I was angry at myself for talking to Tavie so much, so I decided not to talk about what was going on in my head one night to her. I told her I was fine, I totally lied to her. I wanted perfection so bad I was going to have to hide what I was feeling to the world. The only way I had been able to do that was when I self-harmed. So yes, the thought entered my pretty little head. But I didn't do it. The next morning I talked to Tavie and she told me I better damn well talk to her if I needed too. *smile*
I started to question a lot of things. Like if healing is good for me, how to separate the lies from the truth, what is life really about. I had believed the lies for so long that they had begun to seem like truths to me.
I went to the counselor again, and we talked a great deal. I talked a lot, more just to save myself from her wanting me to see Dad. Abraham told me through tear-filled eyes (and he DOESN'T cry) that he was afraid his counselor would say he needed to see Dad. I told him I would go with him IF that even happened. *angry*
Mom wasn't home a lot, she had to work and when she wasn't working she was out doing errands. She couldn't help it, and I couldn't help it. Life goes on.
My Uncle and I drove past our old house, on the consent of myself. I looked up as I saw the empty place, and looked in all the windows. They had painted the walls, and ripped up the carpet. I gasped as I saw something I had wanted to see so badly before we left: When my family had just moved into the house, there was no carpet. The night before we got carpet my Dad brought us to the living room where we put our handprints and the date on the floor. Dad said that we wouldn't see it unless we got new carpet. Nobody plans for failure at the beginning. My Uncle asked me if I was going to cry, which I hastily replied "I'm fine."Liar.The memories......were overbearing. Flashbacks horrible. But what can I do?
The nausea has tried to come back, but I keep telling myself they are false symptoms. It works. But I now hate nightmares more than anything.
Tavie and I had a sleepover one Friday. We had had a great day, saw a movie with another friend (The Lucky One and I bawled.....SO MUCH.), then went to my house and watched a movie and just.....talked. It was....so amazingly awesome. We had a thunderstorm and we went out to watch it. We screamed, talked, laughed, ate, and we were happy. I texted her after she left the next morning and asked her if she remembered when I had asked her if we would ever have fun again, and I said that last night was the answer to that. She agreed. It was good to feel normal again, if only for a minute.
My Uncle (Dad's brother) and his family live in Texas, but had come up for a visit. I wasn't prepared when they showed up at our church. My Uncle hugged me, and I grew stiff. I watched as he spoke in front of the church, and had a mild panic attack. He reminded me of Dad so much it was crazy. It was then I realized: I missed Dad. A lot. More than I let on to anybody, but I had to remind myself of the stuff I didn't like about him. That he wasn't the same Dad I once knew. I ran to the bathroom and cried.
I went home and tried to resist, but then bowed in. I watched family videos and laughed with my heart feeling heavy. This is all my fault that we aren't together now. I kept telling myself it was a lie. But was it? What is boiled down to was that God forgave me. God loved me. God would never leave me.
This is coping at its finest.