The past 2 months have been a whirlwind of emotions. And I have been missing in action in all aspects of writing for all of that.
I have had some really wonderful new experiences that have brought joy, but also a lot of turmoil. The kind of turmoil that leaves you mentally spirally out. The kind of turmoil that sets you five steps backwards when you thought you were two steps forward.
My past has not been an easy one to forego, and I fight the trauma from that every single day, even 17 years after the fact. Often times, those ugly traumatic events will rear their ugly head in my brain and affect my daily life. I am a survivor of domestic violence; physical, mental, verbal, and sexual. Those types of things can effect you even after you think you have suppressed them all. I know my triggers, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still spiral out of control when something happens in my present day to remind me of them.
Its hard. It’s really really hard.
This is exactly why I started counseling. I tried to suppress these feelings for so many years; by my self. It was the realization that I can’t do it on my own, and should have sought help a long time ago. I never gave myself time to heal, to overcome that trauma, to deal with it head on. I urge you, if you are dealing with anything of the above, please seek someone. Someone, anyone to talk to. Do not try to do it own your own. Because no matter how much you think you have handled it, there is a strong reality that you have not. It takes hard work and it will not be easy. I chose to move forward with remembering who I am outside of the trauma. Who am I? What do I love to do? How exactly do I stand on my own two feet.
The past 2 months have been full of a lot of tears, hurt, anger, resentment, and painfully living out my trauma in a way I never imagined could happen. I won’t go into full detail but I will say there was definitely a point just within the last week that I wanted to just give up and run away. But that’s not the answer. I’m working on it, but’s it’s still a very thin tight rope I am walking on here.
I saw a quote or something of the liking today. It said butterflies often rest during the storm, during the cloud cover. Once the rain and the cloud cover have passed by they spread their wings and soar. Meaning, even though beautiful and soaring free in the sun, they still take the time to rest. To breathe.
To breathe.
My grandmother played a very important role in my life. She was my confidant. The person I could go to about anything. She knew when I was overwhelmed or struggling. She would stop me and say to me “Just breathe”. It’s something that has stuck with me, even more so now that she is no longer here with us on earth.
As I wander through life, the ups, the downs, the stepping forward, and stepping backwards. I hear her say it to me over and over again. “Tiff, just breathe”. So, that’s what I am doing. I, as a Butterfly, broken free from the cocoon, sit and rest and just breathe as the storms, clouds, and rain move by. It may take hours, days, weeks, or months; but they will move. The sun will come out again, and I can then once again spread my wings and fly.
Until then. Just Breathe.
Life Outside The Cocoon 
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