Realizations found within the comfort of a broken arm chair.
I’m sitting in the dark in a broken chair, rekindling friendships that have been neglected by time and distance, and I realize how much has changed in a year’s time. I’ve thought about it before, but here I am facing the same wonder and awe to how much I’ve changed. I’d like to say its for the better, that I’ve grown, but I have no idea and I’m not sure it matters. I’m happy, healthy, healed. I laugh freely. I can’t remember the last time I cried myself to sleep. I can feel. I’m unafraid to feel. I’m unafraid to think for myself and to live for myself. I give of myself freely and at my own discretion. Today alone I spent the morning with an amazing man, unafraid to speak honestly of my feelings and laughing deeply as I traced the sides of his lovely face. I pushed myself for a hard workout, forced myself to eat two meals, and prayed through the rosary. That might seem fairly novel for any given reader, but for me its a world of difference. I stand today as a changed woman. I’m stronger, more worn to the ways of life. Suicide hasn’t been an option for almost a year now. I don’t care who will judge me due to my beliefs, my body, my lifes choices — I live for myself now, not their approval. For the first time in a number of years I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I am almost free; the illusion of freedom is comforting and almost appears to be a tangible option.