There’s a voice in your head that tells you how it is; knaws at your psyche; travels down into your belly and makes the stabbing, empty feeling that lingers always in you when you don’t want to believe something.
Fight or flight tells you to push it away; and so you do. Over and over and over. Kill the voice; kill the emptiness; kill yourself. You’re good at this; you can do that.
But you know how it is; because both your mind and gut tell you, and they are never wrong.
You decide one day when you are at your breaking point, that you are tired of the game you play with yourself. You also decide there is no point of trying to push it away anymore; because you are going nowhere fast.
You stop pushing it away and let it come into view. It is devastating, and the wounds are freshly ripped open daily. But you take it, because you’re a fighter.
You don’t like to feel hurt inside, so most of the time you spend your days trying to focus on other things to take your mind off of the obvious.
You allow yourself certain times to deal with the actual traumas, and deal with said traumas in a productive, positive fashion. (for the most part)
You form personal rules for yourself about how you will allow yourself to be treated by others; and how you will treat yourself.
You stick to those rules.
Twenty-one days becomes a habit, and the habit continues and sticks, because it makes you feel better about yourself as a person to be living your life this way.
You start to feel better and form some resemblance of a healthy esteem and life.
You live to die another day.
You will never give up.
J. Rounds ©2015 ~Peaces of Me