Really wishing I wouldn't have thought about how strong I thought I was with my mom. Ever since I've been having memories of me standing there with resolve, not even flinching as the punches, slaps and whatever she had in her hand came flying at me. What a sick thing to think about. Those are feelings I used to feel pride about. Now I'm angry and sad. But I still can't cry. I leak. But I don't cry.
I specify a difference because my eyes well up and a tear or two might fall but I don't willingly let anything out. There has never been an exception. I've never felt safe enough, even alone to just release it. I need to though. As the memories float to the surface I find myself feeling overwhelmed and anxious. But I still refuse to go there. I just can't. My heart is not safe around my husband. That's not his fault either. He really wants to be there for me, he just can't help himself. He feels like it's helpful to tell me how I should handle myself. I have repeatedly asked him just to listen, to hold me, to just be there and he cannot be. Again, not his fault. He only knows how to correct in an attempt to help. But with stuff like this, there isn't a right or wrong, it just is or isnt. And with him around it isn't.
My girlfriend K could possibly be a safe person if we could actually have time without interruption. My therapist would be but he can't touch me. My guyfriend L definitely is and has come close to breaking me a couple times without even trying but we aren't allowed to be alone so it doesn't matter. So I keep stuffing and little bits dribble out despite my unwillingness to let it go. I'm literally going to explode one of these days. I just hope the situation in which that happens is appropriate.
My username is Mia Phoenix. Although Mia is not Mia it's M.I.A. or missing in action. I used to relate to the Phoenix; rising from the ashes into an amazing creature of fire and healing. Now I see that I may have risen from the ashes of my childhood but I'm not flying yet and I am not healed. I'm trying and fighting my way through this in hopes of living a life worthy of the title of a Phoenix but for now, the Phoenix in me is M.I.A. Thus Mia Phoenix.
Ironic really because today is Easter. A day of resurrection. Perhaps one of these Easters I will just be a Phoenix instead of Mia Phoenix. Until then, I'll keep fighting through the memories, keep numbing myself to just cope with living with H and place my hope in God for a life I desperately want before I have no life left in me to live. But maybe that's the point. Maybe I have to die before I can be reborn. Maybe I have to embrace the pain, the tears, the years and accept the unacceptable before I can fly. Even if it's not Easter, that will be my resurrection day.
