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Moving from surviving to thriving.

It’s been a while.​

I’m not even sure when I last wrote. Life has been busy, and a source of constant change. Within this time, I have continued to do the next right thing. Sometimes just taking it moment by moment. ​

I have outgrown my old life. I have grown into someone with the need for a purpose. The need to help others.​

And so, tomorrow morning I start my drive to Utah. I am moving. I’ve secured a job in the recovery field. I will be a recovery advocate in a residential trauma facility, just like the one I attended a year ago. ​

I’ve rediscovered who I am to be, what I want to do. ​

This decision didn’t come lightly. I’ve spent a year weighing the pros and cons. Listening to my heart as it tells me who I am, and what I’m to do. ​

This past year has been hard, and it has been amazing. I’ve found myself again. I may not always like the person I am, but I’m learning to love her just as she is. ​

Tomorrow, I will be on a 36 hour drive to the home I’ve found with my found family. ​

This new journey in my life looks like it will be amazing.​

I am ready to move from surviving to truly living. ​

#CPTSD #PTSD #Trauma #Recovery #Healing #growth #ResidentialTreatment #traumatreatment #MentalIllness #change


#CPTSD #SuicidalIdeation #impendinghospitalization #traumatreatment

I’m so mad at the world right now and everything in it and especially myself. I feel like this is going to be the g.d. 35th hospitalization or something, because it is. But it will only be the first time that I get inpatient help for the actual problem. So how many more times is it going to take? All I have ever wanted is a shot at life. I have fought for every step I’ve taken. I feel like since I relapsed it’s been the first stage of just giving up. And that makes me feel like the biggest loser.


#traumatreatment or whatever #Selfharm

I really don’t want to go to treatment. A month doing really hard trauma work without access to music at one place, or without a stuffed animal or my fuzzy pillow at the other place sounds terrible. Plus they aren’t even going to accept me or believe me about my story because dammit it isn’t real. F*** me. I even get “being f’ed up” wrong.