The beginning of a journey is the hardest. At least that is what most people say. I guess, knowing how hard it was for me to take that first step, I have always believed that. However I am not so sure anymore.
The beginning of my journey was hard. Reporting my abuse to the police was not only terrifying, but a step I never thought I would take. So yes, that first step was difficult but was it the hardest part of this journey? No, I don’t think it was.
I say that because right now I am struggling and I am feeling like a big disappointment.
I feel like I am letting people down; my family, my friends, my work colleagues, my bosses but most of all my fellow victims and survivors. I feel like I should be stronger. I feel like I should be coping better.
In truth I am emotionally exhausted. I am tired of the memories and the pain. I am tired of the sadness. I am tired of being sick.
The abuse, the memories of the abuse and the PTSD are hard to cope with. I am mentally ill. I suffer from depression, anxiety and BPD.
I have temporarily stepped back at work because I cannot cope, I am too sick to cope, with the Management Role. I push myself daily, harder and harder but still I am not back to where I want to be, to where I was before reporting my stepfather for what he did. I feel like I am letting my colleagues and my bosses down because I am not stronger. I feel like a failure for not being OK and for not being able to just cope with everything.
I am sad a lot of the time and have moments when I just want to give up. I struggle to cope and I feel like a failure.
I want to cry – a lot – but feel that crying will make me more of a disappointment.
I self-harm a lot to help me cope and to make it through a day, a week, a month. Sometimes the memories become too much and I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to have to deal with any of this. In these moments I just don’t care.
In these moments of unbearable pain and sadness the only way out seems to be giving up, to stop fighting. In these moments it feels like it will only be a matter of time until I break, until I cry, until I fall. These moments are the hardest. These moments are the darkest.
These are the moments when I wonder how long this journey will be and if I will ever make it to the end. If I will ever reach success or if I will always be a failure. If I will make it through this pain and sadness of if I will fail. If I will do my fellow victims and survivors proud or if I will disappoint them. If I will ever find my wings or stay a broken butterfly forever.
And yet, these are the moments, when I am falling, drowning, sinking, when I want to give up, that I don’t.
Somehow I find the courage to continue. I dig down deep and find my voice and know that I must speak for my fellow victims and survivors.
I live through every day feeling like a failure and feeling worthless but I won’t give up because deep down I know that giving up is the only real way to fail. I am exhausted of fighting and of this journey, but if a journey doesn’t challenge you then it won’t change you either. I am in pain, I am frustrated and giving up is an option but it isn’t the choice I will make.
This journey is hard. This journey hurts. This journey is tearing me apart.
I feel like a failure daily. I judge myself. I hate myself. I punish myself.
I am damaged and I am frightened but I will hold on to hope. I will stumble and I will fall, I may even break and cry, but still I will pull myself back up somehow.
For if you pick yourself up no one can call you a failure can they?
Failure doesn’t come from falling down. It comes from not getting back up.
Falling down is something I am really good at….
But then, so is getting back up!
Thanks for reading
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