I started writing about one of the shit storm periods of my life, and I had to stop. Some of it is still too raw. I’ve talked about it in therapy, but I’m not ready to put it out here for all to see. I planned to write a book about those times, and I still might, but I’m going to have to sit with it a little longer. I’m not okay with that time in my life, and that’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay. It just means I have more work to do.

I can write about it in summaries, but getting into the details makes my stomach turn in knots. The guilt and shame I thought I worked through is still there. It’s the remnants of the abusive relationship I was in and the few years prior to then.

I was afraid. Afraid to tell someone I let those things happen to me, let him abuse me for over a year. Afraid no one could help. I eventually got out of that situation and moved back home.

A few months after I came home I started having nightmares about him and screamed in my sleep, sometimes woke up screaming. I eventually started seeing a therapist and started working through things.

I didn’t know I had a bunch of unfinished business. My childhood trauma reared its ugly head. I’ve learned it’s okay. Sometimes we have unfinished business, sometimes issues don’t show up right away, sometimes we need to revisit things. Sometimes other people bring things up that usher in a wave of emotions to sort through.

I’m learning it’s okay to feel emotions, to express them, to be vulnerable. It’s still a struggle, but it’s okay. I’m working to feel safe with people, an even bigger struggle. But it’s okay. I’m okay.

I will be okay.