I decided to write about this one specifically because I have it. I have been reading The Complex PTSD Workbook by Arielle Schwartz, PhD over the past few weeks.

I’ve had the book for close to two years and just never felt ready for the heaviness of the subject and memories I would have to face. Facing truths you’ve tried to bury and pretend aren’t real for over 30 years is a challenging thing to bring to the surface.

I had disassociation from memories that I have played off as no big deal my whole life when in fact are a HUGE deal for a child of 5 or 6. Other things that happened I had never spoke a word of until I felt safe enough with my amazing husband to utter the words out loud without feeling judged, like some how my toddler self was at fault for the things that were done to me.

If it wasn’t for the support of my husband and my amazing therapist there’s no way I would know that my anger is actually anxiety or fright, or sometimes sadness that makes me feel I’m weak.

Anger is my Viking ancestors fighting through anything that remotely feels vulnerable even if it kills me. I have a tattoo of a Valkyrie on my back to remind me of the strength I want and pretend to have.

I’m still alive, I’m still working toward happiness. Even in the face of multiple illnesses causing disability I’m still trying to be the best version of my broken self. You should too, it’s hard but it’s worth it.