The Day I Decided To Heal

I'd be lying if I told you I remembered the day I decided I could no longer keep living the way I was. I don't. All I remember is that, that day had FINALLY come. At the ripe age of 35-after years of trauma, pain, and abuse-I hit a wall. I was sick and tired of feeling like a victim. It wasnt fun anymore. I was tired of pretending everything was okay when NOTHING really was okay at all.

I tried everything you can think of to try and numb the pain and silence the chaos in my mind. Drugs, sleeping my days away, avoiding the people I loved the most! For a awhile, I thought those things worked. It gave me a temporary escape, but deep down I knew I was only delaying the storm that would always come crashing back in. Silly me, I thought I had it all figured out.

I remember sitting in my room one day, staring at the walls and wondering how I let it get this far. I often thought about my dad, who I swear is the strongest person on this earth, mentally, physically, whatever comes to mind. I say this because that man has been through the worse things imaginable growing up, WAY worse than anything I ever experienced or could even begin to imagine. Yet, he never used anything to help him cope. And I always wondered, how? Because my experiences BROKE me. And I wanted to be just like that! Resilient. Strong willed. Determined.

I had once been so full of fire and ambition, with goals that i just KNEW I was going to achieve. But then life hit me like a freight train- it left me broken, empty, and confused. Clueless about how to even begin piecing myself back together. What I saw in the mirror, wasn't me. I saw fear. I saw hurt. I saw a version of myself that had been enslaved by trauma for far too long.

For years, I didn't understand why some people seemed to stay stuck in the same cycles. I judged them, thinking, "Why don't they just change?" But then it hit me- I was one of them. Change is terrifying. Healing is uncomfortable. Growth is painful. Choosing to work on yourself means facing every scar, every wound, every memory you've tried to bury.But staying the same? That's a pain all on it's own. I learned that comfort isn't safety-it's the most dangerous trap of all.

Trauma doesn't vanish overnight. Healing isn't a single moment of breakthrough-it's a process, one that demands patience and grace with yourself. For the first time in my life, I decided to choose myself. And choosing myself wasn't easy. It wasn't a quick fix. Sometimes it was things as little as taking a shower when my body felt too heavy to move. Sometimes it was saying "No" to people who drained me, even though saying "No" felt like betrayal.

As time went on, I learned that healing isn't about erasing the past. It's about making peace with it. It's about deciding that your future is worth fighting for, even if you're not sure what it looks like yet.It looks like journaling my feelings instead of swallowing them. It looks like reaching out for help when I swore I'd never need anyone.

Is it easy? ABSOLUTELY not! But the moment I decided to choose myself was the moment I stopped being a victim of my story and started becoming the author of it. Because once you realize you have the power to rewrite your own narrative, life opens up in ways you never thought possible! I share this because I know there are people out there who feel exactly like I did- trapped, exhausted, and hopeless. Seeing no light at the end of the tunnel.

It wasn't the end for me. It was just the beginning!