Monday, Monday…

Happy Monday!  Why would I say happy Monday?  Well, as you know, I’ve looked forward to Monday’s.  Since I have been crying every Sunday for months now, it is only appropriate that I celebrate Monday.  However, yesterday (Sunday), I did not shed ONE tear!  No, not one.  It was amazing and I’m working extremely hard to find out why, so that I can repeat the process.

When you have DID, some days are really good and others are really difficult.  We may be triggered by something unexpected, such as a song, smell, saying, a person, almost anything.  That is the frustrating part.  When the past is triggered, I want to run away, numb, isolate, and do just about anything to not feel.  Although, this is a very normal occurrence, I can not let my past dictate my future.  I will not let those who have harmed and abused me win the battle in my mind and body.

As the Thanksgiving holiday approaches this week, I am finding myself struggling with past memories and feelings.  I have not communicated with my family of origin (FOO) this past year, because some have chosen to not take accountability for their part in the abuse, some refuse to believe it’s true (even with proof), and some don’t want to get involved/pretend it didn’t happen.  It is equally painful not being believed as it is being abused.  Therefore,  I battle the feelings of not being good enough.  Because I am a perfectionist, I want things to be good, not make any mistakes- perfect somehow.  When the negative thoughts, criticism, and judgments take over, I feel wrong, bad, and corrupt. “If we were good enough, then the abuse wouldn’t have happened” and this is the lie we tell ourselves.

I have to believe that we are good enough, and worthy of love and belonging!  On Thanksgiving, I want to be able to celebrate with my husband and sons.  I want to be present, not dissociate when those overwhelming feelings come.  During the holidays, we get bombarded with the media talking about the importance of being together and celebrating as a family.  But when your family is part of your pain, celebration is the last thing on your mind.

Now my family looks a little different. On Thanksgiving, and everyday that I am alive, I will be grateful, thankful and extremely blessed for my husband, sons, therapist, and friends who have walked beside me. These incredible people have supported, cried with and encouraged me along this journey.  They are MY new family!




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