a girl walking away from a crumbling home

Facing Your Demon

My story is not happy or sad. These are such simple categories of feeling that don’t hold much meaning. Happy can be painful, dark, and triumphant. Sad can be hollow, harrowing, and hopeful. The nuances of each weave together. Sometimes I am the happiest when I’m sad, and sometimes I am the saddest in moments of happiness. There is a comfort in knowing the depths human suffering can sink into.

One day you have to face your demons and if you’re prepared for it, you will break through into an entirely new life. There are three questions to ask yourself to get to this point: do you like yourself? Do you trust yourself? Do you forgive yourself?

I began to ask these questions daily until I finally felt confident in the answers. Then, as if studying all year for a final exam, the day came when I had to face the demons. At this moment, I am still reeling in the bittersweet memories that come across my mind. We cannot have the good without the bad, the light without the darkness, and the truth without the lies. I can play the tapes of these memories without the guilt I felt for so long because they were my decision to be a part of. I chose the life I was in and all the pain that came with it. I am thankful to have learned the lesson of gratitude and self-love out of it.

Today, I came face to face with my abuser, I felt calmer than I expected. He was a person I knew in a past version of my life, and despite all the anger that surged in that moment, it wasn’t worth saying any of it. The resentments are no longer a part of my self. He doesn’t know me, the person I am today, and as a stranger in my new life, I allowed the moment to pass by. All the negative thoughts that lingered dissipated softly into the same wave of thoughts of the pieces that were good. I have learned it is ok to miss a person who betrayed you. That love doesn’t have to be forgotten, because this is the love that was a reflection of my own good intentions. Rather, it must be sent within, as a survivor of a life that wanted to destroy me.

I write this with a hurricane of words in my mind that create a story of love and loss. I have accepted that there is nothing to gain by speaking these thoughts and giving them power again. I still believe anyone can change if they really want to. And some people never want to.

AI generated image of a surreal house floating in clouds

Surviving Stockholm Syndrome

Growing up you hear about the good guys and the bad guys, Heaven and Hell, what’s right and what’s wrong. I can tell you for certain Hell is a place that exists right here on Earth. The demons aren’t in stories, they are people that tell us the sweetest lies. I have seen someone change into one right before my eyes. I felt my heart being shredded into pulp.

Have you ever had so much anger you don’t know if you’re living in the same reality as everyone else? My therapist told me I should journal about this black mass dwelling inside me. It follows me everywhere like a back-stabbing friend, cozy and kept in a corner of my head, waiting for the right time to ambush. I never thought feeling this much anger was possible. It rushes over like a tsunami destroying everything in its path.

I always thought I could spot a liar. I thought that if I was as kind as possible, giving to a fault, and always put others before me, I would never have to worry about dark deceit. I didn’t know there were people who thrive off pain. That would see my light and want to extinguish it for their own pleasure.

For two years I entered into a reality which was no longer mine. I was captivated by this person who I couldn’t stay away from even when I was given all the signs from the start. The lies began immediately, and I took the bait. Like some spell I was attached to helping this person at all costs, the cost of my friends, family, life, and sanity. I abandoned own wounded spirit in hope I would somehow be healed, and he split open my body like digging nails into a laceration and let me bleed out while still asking for more.

I’m sharing this for two reasons: that maybe getting all of these experiences out into words will alleviate the daily destruction in my head, and hopefully someone reading this will know they are not broken, they are not wrong, they are not beyond saving. I saw the view from rock bottom and hope my experiences can help someone reading this know you are not alone.