Four years, 18 days ago my sister shot and killed herself.
Four years, 22 days ago my mother overdosed.
Four years ago I stopped sleeping with my father stopped raping me.
Nearly four years ago my father fled and I haven't seen him since.
Four years ago my daughter was almost two and I barely knew how to be a mother.
Four years ago today I met my my husband.
What an amazing four years these past four have been. I have gone from being virtually alone to now where I have a family; a small one but still a family in every way.
As I am writing this, I am looking out our study window and I can see my daughter riding her bike with friends and my husband hanging Christmas lights, something he has been doing since this past Sunday. Yes, he is that guy. If you had told me four years ago that this is where I would be today, I would have probably told you to fuck off and I definitely would have laughed at you.
Four years ago was pretty much my rock bottom. Just when I thought that things couldn't get any worse; they got better. Quite literally as I lost my family, I met my husband. The most toxic people in my life were gone and I met one of the healthiest people that I know. Looking back, that was no coincidence because had I still been surrounded by my family, there is no way I would have ever allowed my husband into my world.
I have much, very much, to be thankful for. My husband is perfect for me. My daughter is thriving. It's a risky thought but it is very possible that I am thriving too. Things aren't perfect and yes, I still struggle but things are so much better than four years ago. I have a family to love and I have a family that loves me. I have a home, not just a house, and we are raising our daughter with the example I always dreamed of for myself.
My daughter made this toilet paper wedding cake today for no particular reason and it struck me as funny that she knew what a married couple looks like. Had I made that cake when I was her age, God knows how I would have depicted a married couple; perhaps with punches being thrown and broken glass topping the cake. It made me smile to see her model a healthy family. Something... lots of things... are finally going right.
We are indeed a healthy family and I am immensely thankful for that.
P.S. I love how creative my daughter is; she came up with this all by herself!
You could call me shattered. I'm a wife, mother, orphan, misplaced daughter, confused religious person, and an abuse survivor. My life has been painful and my life is still painful; probably more so now than ever before. I see my therapist on at least a weekly basis so writing here is part of my process. I'm learning to feel and it is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life, next to surviving.
I'm a funny person but it's a dark, wicked kind of funny. I find humor in odd things, in my misfortunes, in my struggles, and in how others relate to me.
I have Dissociative Identity Disorder and I hope that this blog will bring a down to earth awareness to the lasting scars that abuse can cause.