Last year around this time I was planning a trip to Philadelphia and planning how to die. Obsessively and meticulously planning it. I thought I was going to follow through—that there was no way around it.

This year I’m planning how to help others climb out of that hopeless place.

It seems surreal… as if that time in my life didn’t really happen. I’ve come so far in so many ways that looking back seems like a lifetime ago. A terrifying lifetime ago.

On top of it all, it just seems so strange to me that actually processing childhood trauma in therapy (and out in real life) now is the hardest thing of all the things (eating disorder, other traumas) but somehow I am ok. Somehow, even though it gets pretty terrible, I am coping better and able to live life (errrr mostly…or sometimes… but that’s better than not at all) alongside the trauma work. Being inside of it is temporarily scary—and I will continue to write it all out so it doesn’t sink me, which might look depressing or even like I’m stuck. But it’s so far from that. It’s coping and connection and creativity.

I can live in the gray.

I can employ the “both/and.”

I am doing that—living in the gray and honoring all parts of me and the emotions that come.

This work is exceptionally and incredibly powerful. I was convinced my only option was to take my own life, and my Wolfpack went into the trenches with me and held on. They would do it again if I needed them too. They will jump in when I’m stuck, they will celebrate with me when things are easier and they will not leave me in any case. I know this now. I trust it. I trust them and I trust myself. Nothing in this life is more powerful and loving than being at your end and finding your spirit in the loving arms of authentic, fight-for-your-life connection.

A year ago I was not ok. At all.

This year I am ok and working on hard things and I wouldn’t change that for anything. 💗

4 thoughts on “The Difference of a Year

  1. I’m so happy to read this. It’s amazing how whole portions—decades—of our lives can feel “not real,” and sometimes I wonder if it’s maybe because we weren’t really, fully living—just surviving—at those times. I’m glad you’ve found your reasons to stay. 💞

    Liked by 1 person

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