Tomorrow will be 3 years since my stepfather, (Dad) passed away and my Mother came to live with me 4 days later. It was not until closer to his death and afterwards that I realized how much I learned from him. How to drive, speaking articulately (he was a toastmaster), how important God and prayer was to him, that he did not see me as a failure and appreciated all I did to help he and mom. I know there is more, but cannot think of it right now. Oh, I know. He was the first man in my home that I could trust. He was sensitive to animals and very spiritual. God and the church were very important to him.

Yesterday I remembered my big sister “Stuff” from rehab 31 years ago. In the first group in rehab I shared a secret that was eating me alive. I was very ashamed. Once I shared it I felt so much lighter, like it created space for me to replace it with something that felt good. It had been ugly and weighing me down. After group I did guided visualization that helped me heal the first pieces of my fractured soul. My big sister Stuff left after I was in rehab a couple of weeks. Once she left, my roommates told me how after I shared my secret in group, people were talking about it and about me and Stuff told them to leave me alone. She protected me and I didn’t even know it. I would have been devastated had I been teased or confronted about my secret. I cried when they told me. It felt like the first time in a very long time that someone protected me from harm.

(Unfortunately I was never able to thank Stuff for what she did because after she discharged she was hit and killed by a car while walking in Baltimore where she lived.)

I remember lying on my bed crying and thinking about what she had done for me without my knowledge after the women told me. It then made me realize that I had never accepted my Grandmother’s death. I was 28 and she died when I was 6. In that moment I realized I was still looking for her, still looking for the first person who did her best to protect me and made me feel safe.

I am currently in what feels like a battle within myself as I attempt to stop trying to run away from my memories of childhood abuse. Running away from them leaves me trying to run away from myself. Not only is it not possible, but it is certainly not healthy, comfortable or fulfilling. It feels like repeated torment, and I am perpetuating it for myself.

I am ready to let it go and working on doing just that from every facet of my being. Spiritually, I am praying, studying the bible and have become more active in my church again. Physically, I have been working out with a trainer 2 days a week for the past 2 years and have begun a weight loss program. Psychologically and emotionally, I am in therapy again.

I feel hopeful and motivated to tackle what feels like the final piece, the origin of my fractured spirit. To embrace all of myself.

To be whole once more…