The past few days have been filled with doubt and worry and fear.
The past few days have also been a blatant and horrible reminder that you existed, and continue to do so.
You did what you could to destroy me.
You, very literally, destroyed what physical evidence was left that I once had a childhood.
You directly violated my sanity, my safety, and my soul.
I can directly pinpoint the genesis of my OCD to you.
You, who falsely accused me of destroying a home.
You, who told me I wasn’t good enough to be wanted by anyone.
You, who made me believe that there was no part of me worth even continuing to allow to live.
And for a while, you succeeded.
I had panic attacks almost twice daily.
I moved across 3 states in the middle of the night.
I tried many different things to attempt to pull me out of where I was.
I tried religion.
I tried alcohol.
I tried men.
I liked those things, but they didn’t directly fix the issue.
I tried a lot of bullshit that other people told me would fix me.
None of it did.
But you went on with your life.
You found other people to project your hatred onto.
You probably destroyed them to.
I learned to pick up and move forward, the way I always have in spite of the enormous gauntlet of bullshit that life has thrown down.
I learned to use a quote from my favorite show to inspire me, “You have a good strong pair of legs underneath you. You should get up and use them.”
I learned to use what I knew to fix myself.
I learned to learn: from my mistakes, from others, to lead, to fight, and to be one of the strong ones.
I learned why you did what you did.
Because you are weak.
Because something happened to you that almost destroyed you, so you took it out on me.
Because you’re so hopelessly screwed up, there’s no saving you now.
I don’t believe that life struggles are thrown at us for us to learn from, because not everyone does.
Struggles happen to all of us, everywhere, at varying levels of intensity; it’s how we react to them that divides us.
The strong survive as victims of a memory.
A friend once told me, “You should always seek to cooperate first. But if you cannot cooperate, you must compete. And if you must compete, you must win.”
You made the choice for me to compete.
You backed me so far to the edge of the cliff that the only place I had to go was to knock you over first.
So, I compete.
I compete with the fear and the rituals and the self-loathing behavior that rears it’s head every time I turn around.
I compete with your will for me.
I compete with the doubt.
I compete with your ability to thrive through the horror you inflict everywhere.
I compete for me.
For my sister and my mother.
For my husband.
For every woman who’s ever toed the edge of the cliff–those who survived and those who had nothing left to fight with.
I will win.
You’ve given me no choice.