Maybe Some Healing?

Life has been a little tough on me the last year. I carry a lot of sadness and grief over what I have lost. I carry anger and rage at what was taken from me. I carry bitterness and hatred over what I was shown. I seem just be getting to the point that I can really pick myself up and move forward. I was basically destroyed about a year ago, but not completely. I lost touch with who I was for awhile, and may have a hard time getting back to that place of complete joy and confidence that I once resided in. I see now that I was still there all the time, to a degree - who I am was still tucked away, waiting to reemerge. Now how to allow that is the question. How to make a safe space for that part of me that was obliterated - that now resembles a 1000-piece puzzle - to come out and start slowly be drawn back together, the way thousands of tiny cells slowly move to merge together. So here I am, attempting to move forward, trying to make sense of what happened and why it occurred and what the hell I'm supposed to do with it now. Sometimes it seems that the best and only solution is for life to end. (Either mine or the fat bastard's). Sometimes I wish for an accident to occur that would save me the trouble - but then sometimes I think ' I could do it this way, this will be easy!' Slipping out of consciousness and physical existence sounds like deliverance... it sounds so reasonable and I come to that conclusion so calmly. No desperation, just a quiet assurance of 'Yeah...that sounds really nice' and seems a definite improvement over the powerlessness I feel to sort this out and bring about any justice. I've been pondering lately what is worth sticking around for and have come up with a few things that, sure enough, are pretty well worth it. It's still difficult - I still just want to give up sometimes - but I'm hoping that I can find some answers in consulting with a professional. Maybe it won't take too much to get back up, alive and kicking. Thing is, I know that there is good in the world, I *know* that, but it's just difficult to see when my vision is so clouded with pain and tears and anger and by images of a manipulative, big, evil son of a bitch.