I think one of the hardest things I’ve had to admit to myself is that I’m not the same person I was before.
I’d like to think I’m still the same silly, funny, chaotic, & wild card person I used to be. Still sociable and making friends. Still brave enough to call out other peoples bullshit. Still honest enough to tell someone directly that I have a problem with them and honest enough to not want to deal with them any further. But I’m not that wild or brave. I’m not the same person I was before.
I’m so much more scared & anxious than I was before. After every abusive, toxic, assaulting, horrid encounter I’ve had, I am actually terrified to put myself out there. The spotlight sucks, it’s not something I ever wanted to be in front of. For so many people though, I was, & I never asked to be that for them.
All I ever wanted was just to be happy, laugh with friends, have people in my life who loved me. A basic normal life, just that. Now, I have a wonderful best friend who I married, and I still have so much to overcome with my own anxieties.
I’m not happy with myself for changing. I’m disappointed and a little mad at myself, for not staying my ground when it came to myself. For betraying my own morals, my own beliefs. I catch myself faltering more as time goes on. Like I’m trying to protect what little amount of normal, what little amount of happiness I was allowed. I feel selfish for not wanting to jeopardise that. Life has chewed me up & spit me out, again & again. And every time it has, I’ve grown a little more scared of it.
I feel myself grow anxious around people. Worried what their intentions of me are. People who like me too quickly, I grow suspicious of. Wary that they heard word of me and are slowly building my trust to get something from me. Wary they just want to see my smile fade. Wary that they’re mistaking me for an idea of me they like better. Or an idea they like worse of me.
I understand, I’m not my trauma. I understand that people change. It’s a given that I would after everything. I know that as I fight past my anxiety to reclaim my life that I’d given up for others, that it will get better. That I can get back to some of who I was, who I wanted to be, but it won’t be the same. I’m still the same person I was then, just changed. Affected by worse. I’m different than who I was, and I have to hope that’s for the best now. Scared or not.