I’m emerging from a five year long tsunami. Finally, there is light, and I’m no longer struggling to find my way up. My cocktail of meds works, my home life is stable, my boys are growing into amazing young men, and I’ve been prolific professionally.
The sadness that permeated most aspects of my life is gone. Seriously, it’s like I woke up on my birthday with a renewed sense of self.
Yes, my arms still carry the marks of my desperation, but I no longer want to die. I don’t chug pills and champagne trying to numb my pain. Instead, I drink champagne with friends to celebrate.
I’ve spent so much time missing the old me that I failed to see the new me is pretty damn awesome.
I like myself. I can look in the mirror and no longer seethe with hatred. I don’t beat myself up for my husbands failures; I don’t agonize over the pain I caused others; I don’t want to run away from myself.
God, I’ve missed me.