So yesterday, after many, many months, I had my last appointment with my therapist. As in, I don’t need to see him anymore unless I want to or feel it necessary. As in, we’re both pretty happy with where I’ve arrived. As in, thank fuck for that.
I told him my biggest fear at this point was feeling too regulated; like maybe I was missing something. A blind spot I don’t even know exists until the collision happens. Like, maybe I’ve just become so good at compartmentalising I’ve managed to fool even myself into thinking I’m doing okay.
Healing is a funny thing like that.
But the girl who sat in his office yesterday is not the same girl who walked in a year ago.
It’s not to say I’m fully healed; I don’t think those of us who have lived through trauma and abuse of any kind can ever declare the work of our healing finished, as such. Complex-PTSD isn’t that straightforward.
But I’m so damn thankful for the work I’ve done and who I’ve become. I’m so damn thankful for everything I’ve achieved and the life I’ve fought for; the refusal to be a victim of my circumstances and determination to overcome them.
I’m so damn thankful for the little girl inside me; the born fighter who made it through what many wouldn’t have. I’ve learned to offer her the love and grace she was never given; to forgive her for the ways she chose to survive when she knew no better. To gently pry those ways from her fingers and say, “here, we don’t need these anymore,” and teach her new ways.
I’m so damn thankful I didn’t give up when it got hard. That I walked through the anger, rage, grief, loss, shame, mourning. That no matter how hard it felt, I made myself feel it. That it would have been easier to remain where I was, but that I chose not to.
I’m so damn thankful for the boundaries I’ve learned to put in place; more so, for believing I am worthy of these boundaries. For knowing my worth. For knowing I am deserving of nothing less than what I am worth. For knowing the value and worth in everything I am and all that I do.
This isn’t to say it’ll all be all rainbows and unicorns from here. There will still be dark days. There will still be moments of pain and heartbreak and brokenness. But it’s not our place to fear or judge these feelings, they just are; such is what it means to be human. And such is what it means to be a poet; to observe, to feel – everything – and lay it down upon the page.
But for now, I’m just so damn thankful for all that I have let go, and all that’s left ahead for these empty and open hands to take hold of.