One will wither away. One will remain chronic, managing a half-life of nagging abuse and constant vigilance. And what of the other one?
I don’t have the magic words. I am not exceptionally clever, or powerful, or manipulative. I did not discover a secret key to a secret garden, or mix some supernatural potion. I did not walk out of those doors fully cured. It just didn’t hurt to sit down anymore.
I am alive. I plan to be for a good while – I am finishing my degree, I have fulfilling relationships with family and friends. I treat myself gently and with respect. I have enough love inside me that I can afford to offer it to someone else. Someone deserving, who thinks I’m deserving.
I cannot choose the course of life. I can choose to have faith and be fiercely real. I can choose to exist in even-mindedness, self-awareness and peaceful disposition.