Healing From Our Past
So five days a week of therapy. That is where I am right now.
Three days a week I have group therapy for three hours. Two days a week I have individual therapy. It is all virtual because I am a housewife and it is summer and honestly, where else would I go. I do it from my bedroom, or sometimes the kitchen table if I need to be near the coffee pot. The kids are here. They see the headphones go on. They see the door close. They see me come out afterward looking exhausted.
Group therapy is heavy. Every week has a theme. One week we did boundaries, which for me is basically learning that no is a full sentence and I do not have to apologize for having limits. Another week we did triggers, like when your body flips into panic mode before your brain even knows what is happening. We have done shame. We have done coping skills. We have done the stories you tell yourself about who you are based on what happened when you were little. Unlearning that stuff takes so much energy.
There is also this new study from Duke University for PTSD that they are telling us about and it sounds pretty cool actually. They are looking at how certain treatments can help reprocess traumatic memories in a way that makes them less overwhelming. I do not understand all the science but the idea is that your brain can actually learn to file those memories differently so they do not hijack you all the time. It is not about erasing what happened. It is about changing how your body and mind react to it. I really hope it can help us too. I feel like I will try anything at this point if it means getting better.
Because I need to get better. Not just for me.
I moved out at seventeen and married at eighteen. I did not really know what I was doing. I just knew I had to get away from my family. That was the whole goal. I did not actually want to be a wife. I do not think I actually wanted kids, not really. I just wanted out. I wanted to survive. And I got lucky, I really did, because I found a man who is loving and kind and not abusive. He is good to me. He is a good dad. But I was so young. I only had a small college education in a medical field that I did not love. I did it because it seemed like what I was supposed to do. And now I am a housewife who cannot keep a job outside the house because of my mental illness.
Sometimes I sit with that and it is a lot.
I look at my life and I realize I never really got to live. Not the way I might have chosen if I had been choosing from a place of peace instead of a place of trauma. And now I am in my thirties and I am just now figuring out who I actually am and what I actually want.
But here is the thing. I do not regret my husband. I do not regret my kids. I love them. And I am realizing now that maybe I can still live, like really live, but this time with them. I can build a life I actually want while I am with the people I actually love. It does not have to be either or.
I want to go to college for English and creative writing. I want to be an author. I want to do journalism, maybe travel and meet people from around the world and write about their cultures and their stories. If I could find a job that let me do that and take my family along, I would be so in love with that life. I want to see things. I want to learn things. I want to write things that matter.
And I know the world I am stepping into is not the same one I grew up in. AI is everywhere now. It is changing how people write, how people work, how people think about creativity. I have mixed feelings about it honestly. Part of me worries it will make my degree obsolete before I even finish it. Part of me feels like it is cheating somehow, like using it means you are not a real writer. But I also know it is not going away. Our kids are going to grow up with it the same way we grew up with the internet or smartphones. It will just be part of how things work. So I think the answer is not to pretend it does not exist or to be afraid of it. The answer is to learn how to use it thoughtfully when the time comes. We are all going to have to adapt, and the more we understand it, the better we can work with it instead of against it.
I want my kids to see me figuring this out.
I want them to see that I am trying. That therapy is hard and my brain feels foggy afterward and sometimes dinner is just ramen with frozen vegetables thrown in because that is what I have got. I want them to see that getting help is normal. That moms go to therapy. That women with PTSD and childhood trauma are still allowed to want more for themselves.
I want them to know that mental illness does not mean your life is over. That you can still chase dreams. That you can still change your mind about who you are and what you want. That the world keeps changing and that is okay, we can learn and adapt without losing ourselves.
I do not want to be perfect for them. That isn't possible.
I want them to see a mother who is tired but still trying. Who got help. Who finally, after all these years, is learning how to live.
And maybe if they see that, they will know they can do it too. Nothing can stop them.









