One of the assignments from my class, which was quickly revamped from in person once a week to online now due to the virus, is to write a compassionate letter to myself.
I’ve been struggling with the meditation part of the course, I feel like I can’t just sit and focus on my breathing for more than a few minutes before I need to get up and do something productive.
It’s more difficult than I had imagined.
So I’ll write this letter to myself and post it on this dusty, seldomly used blog of mine.
You’re still alive and kicking, kudos to you. It must be some kind of miracle that you’re going on 5 years since your suicide attempt.
Few people have said this and since you’ll probably die before hearing it (haha!), I’ll do it myself…I’m fucking proud of you.
Yes, I’m talking about removing that waste of space ex-husband from your life and sparing the kid from his increasingly unwell, subtle abuse. I know, it’s a subject mostly avoided by others and so you keep that specific season of horror to yourself but it does deserve to be acknowledged.
It’s also fair to note that at one time, you loved him. That’s what made it so damn difficult to let him go, to let the entire 15-year relationship basically dissolve into the nothingness of the void.
I know that you still dream of him and sometimes, it really hurts because you never in your wildest imagination thought that he could be so cold and cruel.
Because you thought that you knew him, that he was deep down a decent man.
And it’s okay that you were wrong. You must forgive yourself eventually.
But now that time has had its way with the entire ordeal and has somewhat lessened the trauma, look at how far you’ve come.
I don’t think that you’d be as mentally strong if you had stayed with him because that was the easier thing to do.
To turn the other way and pretend that everything was just fine like you did for a spell there until you finally could no longer tolerate living a lie.
If you had stayed, well, perhaps you wouldn’t have been able to survive almost an entire year now without your dear mother.
You would still be trapped in that condo like a wild animal, desperate to be free.
You would never have met your boyfriend who showed you that you might have fibro but you’re not dead yet and there’s so much more to experience in life.
You are a strong woman.
You are brave.
And you’re fierce when the need arises.
When you need a reminder of why you need to keep pushing forward and continue trying, just look up into the sky, whatever hue that it may be at the time.
Your mom is watching and she loves you, girlfriend.
And because you took the harder road and came out of the other side with your heart and soul scratched but healing, you know for certain now that God is good.
Even when life isn’t fair and seems to not be worth the effort, God is good.