Hurting and Healing

You did the same thing my dad does.

Hide things from his partner out of shame, fear, and guilt.

I would like to think that I react better than my step-mother, though.

Mostly fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being judged beyond a moral standard. One that you fear is unattainable.

I haven’t written about you much. Not that you haven’t been on my mind, but being with you is mostly smooth sailing on my end.

Yet, what does what unfolded today show how you view me?

Who am I to you?

Someone you love. Someone you care for.

You’ve been hurting so deeply for a long time. Hurt people hurt people.

Hurt people hurt people.

I’m so glad you have come to see and seek help – even if it isn’t from me. Especially if it isn’t from me in some circumstances.

Yet, what does what unfolded today show how you view me?

And how am I to contest with who I am to you?

Is it really me?

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What do I need for healing?

That is what I ask myself this night.

Deep breaths feel satisfying.

Shitty internet disrupts healing.

How much of myself have I kept from being seen? How much have I thrown myself out for no logical reason? How much of myself do I let myself feel?

I need a shower. Warm water.

Sleep sounds nice.

But when am I healing?

Tomorrow will be a busy day. Dog 1. Work. Dog 1. Echocardiogram. Z-Pix placement. Private kid. Dog 2. Dog 1. Home.

Shitty internet disrupts healing.

It’ll be interesting, that’s for sure.

I will be calm.

I will walk.

I will connect with animals and people.

I will shower when I get home tomorrow.

Maybe a bath too.

Heal.