Accepting where I am

This time of year is rough as shit for me. I started therapy 6 years ago. My grandfather passed away in April. Those two things were catalysts for so many changes in my life. Cutting contact with my family, ending an 11 year relationship, living alone for the first time, just in time for the pandemic to hit. It was a lot.

This time of year is when I remember how much my body remembers, or how much I subconciously linked the times together. I don’t remind myself of dates of things, but the fact that it’s Easter soon, the clocks have changed, etc are all linked to big things happening in my life.

I had a nightmare a few weeks ago that was so realistic it took me a good ten minutes to get my heart rate back down. I woke up strategising how to escape. I had to soothe myself, remind myself that I was never going back, I’d never be back there, I won’t let that happen to me.

I’ve been talking to my therapist about acceptance of my mental illness and symptoms. I don’t think there’s anything else of my past to truly excavate and examine, it feels like it would do more harm than good. I’ve re-written so many habits already, my thought patterns are different, I am a different person now. I’m so proud of how far I’ve come. But I can’t ignore the parts of me that are still reactive and trautised.