Ive been procrastinating on the next chapter of my life story. Numerous psychology courses have taught me that sharing is the best way to heal, and its true, each time it gets a little easier. But even more importantly if it helps even one person or resonates within and makes them feel not so alone, its worth it. Part 2 is oh so difficult for me to write or talk about. It comes with a stigma attached to it along with shame, guilt, and embarrassment. Those negative emotions that noone wants to feel. And it makes me angry that other people's opinions make me feel that way. They didnt walk a mile in my shoes and have no right to judge. I didnt do anything wrong except not love myself enough. But how could I learn to love myself without any support or positive influence. I was still a child when I met him and so easily manipulated. I didnt know what love was and despite being abandoned, I was lucky and had never really experienced anything too horrific. My will to survive is what saved me time after time. For what? I didn't know. But i would carry on day after day for something. And then that final night when death was knocking at my door and the blood dripping from my body, I fought. I fought harder than I ever have before. I wasnt ready to die, I just knew I had to survive. I was fierce and I wasn't going to lose that fight. I don't like pity, no survivor wants pity. I'm not a victim. I'm just a survivor, one simple 8 letter word S-U-R-V-I-V-O-R. But the truth is some people will see me differently after they read my story. They will judge (maybe unconsciously) but it happens and they dont know what to say to me. I'm the same person I was yesterday. Nothing has changed. Remember that for me and any other survivors who are courageous enough to share their story. And live. ♡
