I am exhausted. All the time. Many valid reasons.
Including the depth of pain I go through in peeling away the layers of trauma and what they mean. The deep grieving. The emotional pain. The physical pain. The daily grind of dealing with Complex PTSD, PTSD and associated illness. The daily issues I have to deal with. The lack of support in my life.
I am aware, a lot of the time, the only reason I think I keep going is my children.
I often want to give up. Yet, I never do. And I never have, despite everything endured.
I realise I am still working on stuff. Still implementing better boundaries and self care… which is a huge part of this journey.
I just realised as I am typing, I don’t want to use the words ‘healing’ and ‘recovery’ anymore. They make it worse. They shame me. They shame others too, in a covert way. I see that clearly. They focus on an end goal I am ‘expected to reach’ that I may never reach, or may take a lifetime to reach. I refuse to do that to myself anymore. And even that, is progress. I will call it ‘my journey’ and nothing more.
Simply knowing to stay away from all the BS that shames people, staying away from unhealthy people, staying away from unreasonable expectations and demands from others and myself, figuring out how to manage my physical illness etc. These alone are all progress.
I guess there is a part of me, that refuses to give up.
I guess there is a part of me still wanting to fight to move towards a better life.
I guess I have more hope within me – than I feel, or allow myself to acknowledge.