I’ve been dealing with this same phenomenon lately. The reservoir of feelings is deep, despite my best efforts to move forward.
I once felt I was an object walking around, keenly disguised as a human. A thin veneer of skin covering the hurt, pain, and sorrow that lay underneath. Now I know that I am a whole person who was objectified.
I love this feeling, this knowledge, this acceptance. It took me nine long years to get to this point and I make sure I acknowledge my hard work. It’s a hard-earned, middle finger to my perpetrators that they couldn’t take my humanity, my person-ness from me. Where I once had no memory of a past, I now have a congruent, truthful timeline and, even though it’s an awful truth, it’s mine, it’s my past, and for me, it’s much better than living with blinders on.
However, learning to live with my past has left me with a large reservoir of left-over feelings. It’s been very gratifying to have worked through…
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