Honesty is brutal.
Honesty can be dirty, nosy, so bad that we simply turn away and run. But what I have been going through for the past 2 months is more cruel than honesty, it’s more hard. Living 2 lives can be tough. Especially when someone asks you why are you not doing something, and you can not answer them, because the answer is so deep, so personal, that it would break you, to even say a word.
Here, I can be honest. But beyond that, I slowly realize, I have to bite my tongue, and spin the truth. Explaining to people that I have spend the last 4 months dealing with PTSD and depression, and that’s why I can’t keep a job for the life of me- that isn’t an option.
I deny the truth access to the surface, because I burned out the last time. I don’t want to hear the truth. Because the last time, I barely lived through it. But when I wake up, my emotions are a bit more…calm. I see, I have changed. I have changed, not only because what happened changed me, but because I have given up. The past few months I have somehow given up. I can’t recognize when I have become so whiney and bitchy and complaining. I may have a da*n good reason to be to…but it’s still only an excuse and it’s not helping me.
I can’t blame my parents for expecting me to find a job. I can’t blame people if they can’t understand why am I at home, complaining, instead of taking action. I had hard 2 years, and may be I let them get me down, I did. But that is no reason to shut down, and not live. Or may be it was. I did it for a while. I had panic attacks and flashbacks and normal wasn’t an option. But somewhere on the way to recovery, I just stopped trying.
The truth was ugly, but fair.
I was at home. Finally, possibly, safe from the past. It was still hunting me, and it was going to for a while, but I have to fight for my dreams. Whatever that means. I’m not sure where down the road I couldn’t continue anymore, but it’s time to try again. If I don’t want explaining all my dirty secrets to anyone, I need to find a job to support me, or freelance online to get enough money, so I don’t have to answer to anyone. I have failed, I have fallen, I have had bad times. But I can’t use them as an excuse forever, no matter how terrified I am of change.
It’s not easy, recognizing I have been wrong. Especially that the last time I was wrong it cost me too much.
But I used to like working. I used to like knowing I am independent and can make my own choices. And he took that from me. And I let him keep taking it, even 2 years after the rape.
I have to let myself see this time. I need to get my control back. It isn’t pretty situation, but it isn’t the end of the world. I have done 2 jobs and 16 hour work days, and now I can’t hold an 8 hour work day? That isn’t me. Not a version of me I want to be anyway. So I have to do something.
I am not sure what yet, but it’s time I get my life back.
And if my past hunts me, I can write here. Vent. Talk to friends. But beyond that, I need to make my own choices and own up to them. If I can’t explain why I can’t do something, of course people will judge. They have the right to.
But for me, I know how I got here today, and how hard it was even getting through another day. I couldn’t have made different choices until now.
I needed to recover. But I have recovered a lot.
Now it’s time I fight back.
*Positive* The other day, I went running. I am also getting into yoga and working out again. I think a healthier body is a good step towards reintegrating myself into life again.