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Becoming Myself After the Abuse: I’m Not That Person . . . Yet

I'm Not That Person . . . Yet

The past month whirled around me, through me, like a red wine hurricane. I feel alive and strong, but spinning uncontrollably in my heart are questions and wishes that I’m not ready to answer or fulfill. I feel like I’m in danger of losing my vision because time isn’t pacing itself with my desires – what I want to become, who I want to be is not yet centered inside of me. The person I want to be is still ahead of me on the timeline while I’m forced to continue living in the present.

I am grateful beyond words that the only voice in my head is my own. After so many years of sharing space with Will’s voice, I had hoped hearing only my own voice would end the confusion and doubt. Living free and dis-anchored from Will’s reality set loose a storm of giddy emotions, loving dreams, and happy thoughts within me. I’ve loved the time I’ve spent in the whirl, loved the people I’ve met, loved the feelings of re-connectedness to life itself. But, as all storms, it is passing and I’m left to deal with the thoughts and decisions I made in the spin-cycle.

It Isn’t REAL, Kellie

Despite the whirlwind of emotion, underlying it on the earthy path of my soul, I knew I was in danger of being swept away into a different kind of false world. If I weren’t careful, I could easily exchange Will’s version of reality for another unreal reality, a possibly more dangerous one made up of my own delusion and wish-craft. A conversation with the powers that be warned me of the magical world of delusion and falsehood and then my flesh and bone therapist said, “It isn’t REAL, Kellie. You’re not yet separate from Will, from that life. You need more time.”

Of course, my ego denied the gods and the therapist outright. This delusion was FUN, it was EXCITING, and it was WORKING! … Dammit. And people around me were in danger of being hurt by it; I was in danger of being hurt by it. My boundaries blurred, my dreams for myself pushed aside, I realize I am spending too much time in the whirlwind and not enough time feeling my feet on the ground.

Right as I left my therapists office, I turned and asked her “How long should this last? Do I have at least another month?” I meant the storm of good-emotion fuel, the feeling of being high on living. She said, “As long as it needs to. There’s no set time.” And although I told myself with a forced smile that I could ride for at least another six months, inside of me, the storm began to quiet.

I’m Not Who I’m Destined to Be

I tried to deny the silencing of the storm. I forged ahead, made an emotional decision that felt good in order to re-ignite the dramatic whirl. But what I found was the drama wasn’t worth the price I asked another person to pay. The Time moves too slowly. I'm ready to be the strong woman I see in myself NOW, but it seems she is a future me, not the present one.seed was planted in my mind, I know the storm is coming to an end, and that the person I am right now is not the person I’m destined to become. I’m not the person I want to be…yet.

So now I’m standing here on a muddied path, feeling alive and humbled, letting the greenish overcast that fills the atmosphere after a storm flows through me. The color green heals, so I know that the coming down from the high is also part of my destiny.

Although I’m saddened to know the storm has passed, it also feels good to know that I’ve weathered it. I haven’t blown so far from my path that it is unrecognizable. My feet are firmly planted in about a half inch of mud, much different from the waist-deep shit I was entrenched in months ago. This mud will dry, the sky will turn blue, the birds will sing and life is good.

Life is different, again, but washed clean and humbly refreshed.

Read this entire post and more. Buy My Abusive Marriage . . . and what happened when i left it by Kellie Jo Holly