My story is a broken one. I've experienced decades of pervasive feelings of emptiness, disengagement from those I love, intense fear, apprehension, and grief, even times of intense suicidal thoughts. In 2010, I was forced to approach my mental health problems head on, and entered therapy. I live with borderline personality disorder, PTSD, and depression. I am currently on medication to help with the sadness and the flashbacks. I also see a wonderful counselor trained in Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) and EMDR, both of which are helping me construct new skills to deal with life more effectively, and releasing me from the grip of the traumas I've experienced in my life since I was a child.
I'm not the first, I'm not the last...and so I offer you my story, the one still being written, the one I carry with me as a satchel on my back, carry forward into healing and future pain.
The power of abuse threatens to drown us and forever obscure our purpose. We walk wounded, and beg for the day when the broken are bound up. But how long can we last?
Will the Pain Ever End?
We walk for a while with daggers still sticking out of our vulnerable souls. We leave those lies there, piercing love, spilling repentance unaccepted, locking us in our own private prison.
Battle Wounds
The longing for emptiness, numbness, release from guilt drives us to the most dangerous precipices.
Begging for Release
But there is rescue. You don't have to walk wounded. Throw off that garment of guilt that has you huddled on a streetcorner panhandling for broken dreams. Embrace healing: it's everywhere, once you start looking.
Sometimes depression comes back after you think it's gone.
And sometimes it is the very doubt that plagues you that ends up opening the door of the cage and setting you free.
I'm not the first, I'm not the last...and so I offer you my story, the one still being written, the one I carry with me as a satchel on my back, carry forward into healing and future pain.
The power of abuse threatens to drown us and forever obscure our purpose. We walk wounded, and beg for the day when the broken are bound up. But how long can we last?
Will the Pain Ever End?
We walk for a while with daggers still sticking out of our vulnerable souls. We leave those lies there, piercing love, spilling repentance unaccepted, locking us in our own private prison.
Battle Wounds
The longing for emptiness, numbness, release from guilt drives us to the most dangerous precipices.
Begging for Release
But there is rescue. You don't have to walk wounded. Throw off that garment of guilt that has you huddled on a streetcorner panhandling for broken dreams. Embrace healing: it's everywhere, once you start looking.
Sometimes depression comes back after you think it's gone.
And sometimes it is the very doubt that plagues you that ends up opening the door of the cage and setting you free.
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