Until you heal the wounds of your past, you are going to bleed. You can bandage the bleeding with food, with alcohol, with drugs, with work, with cigarettes, with sex; but eventually it will all ooze through and stain your life. You must find the strength to open the wounds, stick your hands inside, pull out the core of the pain that is holding you in your past, the memories, and make peace with them.”
Cult of Personality
I’m the product of a 17-year-old mother and a frightened manboy. Both weren’t prepared but one ran away. Not an entirely uncommon story, right?
Here’s where it gets interesting…
My mom found comfort in the arms of a religious cult. It took us under its wing and provided the acceptance she craved. I love her for doing what she thought was best.
I spent the first 15 years of my life programmed what to think, where to spend my time, how to act, who to talk to, when to take action. It became my identity.
Around my mid to late teens, my intuition told me there was something greater for me. I gained the courage to follow my heart and broke through the shackles. Leaving everything I’d known behind.
Since then, it’s been smoooooth sailing!! J/k. The rough seas definitely had their way with me. I was completely unprepared to face the world’s complexities.
“We accept the love we think we deserve.”
Over the years, I settled for whoever or whatever would have me. Attracting and creating dramatic and stressful situations. I ended up in toxic relationships with physically and psychologically abusive men. Turned a blind eye to sexual harassment from employers.
It didn’t matter who devalued me. The more I was walked all over, the more I stuck around.
Almost like I didn’t want it easy.
My perception of love was warped. Let’s just say I found some real gems…
One who I’d moved out-of-state for and cheated on me shortly thereafter.
A drunk who shoved me out of his truck, leaving me stranded in a dark downtown alley an hour from home.
A part-time boyfriend who I agreed to share with his ex because he wouldn’t stop seeing her.
Oh yeah…and the one who moved across the US. I quit my awesome job, dropped out of my MA program and sold everything I had. Two days before I leave, he changes his mind.
That left me in a pickle, ya know?
I came to a fork…
Stick around and rebuild. Or try my hand at a new experience. I waved goodbye to SoCal and transplanted into the unknowns of Kansas.
“The outer conditions of a person’s life will always be found to reflect their inner beliefs.”
From my mid-20s to about 31, I was hit with a wave of mental and physical health problems…
I was clinically diagnosed with moderate depression, had uncontrollable emotional outbursts, inexplicable rage peppered with suicidal thoughts.
I lost my left ovary to a softball size tumor. A year later, I miscarried during my first and only pregnancy.
My cycles of depression became such a part of me that I started noticing the happy days when they would happen…They contrasted so well from the darkness of the rest.
I gained weight no matter which antidepressants I popped, even the ones that claimed to aid weight loss (one winter, I tried 3 different types). Then I cried because I hated my body. I hated the battle deciding between being fat and feeling OK and fit and miserable.
In hindsight, I wasn’t happy when I was either.
The things you suppress don’t magically disintegrate. They just hide out for awhile — not forever. But they will find ways to remind you they exist. Getting your attention by any means necessary. When they’re desperate, anything to get them resolved is fair game. Including your physical and mental health.
Mine were flailing their arms, sending me smoke signals, and blowing an airhorn yelling, “Mayday! Mayday!”
There is an extraordinary connection between mind and body.
When either is trying to tell you something, listen.
“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful parts of ourselves.”
I started “Project Me” at 31. Using my instincts, determination and modern technology as my tools, I began seeing steady growth and improvement.
I made it through my first winter in 4 years without antidepressants, about to hit the 2-year mark in a loving and healthy relationship and have a better outlook on life and myself. However, I haven’t found a way through my wine and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos addiction. They’re next on the list.
I’ve got a long way to go but I’ve come a long way. Remaining in the present as much as I can while patching up the holes of the past.
Your happiness is worth the investment in yourself. There’s no amount of lost that faith and determination can’t repair. But there’s work involved and it’s hard. It takes time. But I’m sharing my story to help make the journey a little easier for you.
No matter how many bones you shatter hitting rock bottom,
There’s always a way to mend.