Here we are again. When I last wrote, I thought life was going to cool down and become less hectic but I was wrong. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, just different to someone who’s been living behind a shadow for years.

Someone new is living with me. I have a habit of taking in strays who just need help getting back on their feet. We were casual friends before she moved in, and I thought she was going to stay that way but she’s ended up being a huge chapter in my life. There’s pros and cons to this situation, but I like to focus on the pros.

I feel like a missing piece was put into this home. It never felt like a home before. I kept all the lights off and blinds closed, so scared of seeing the sunlight in fear that it was going to be taken away. Now I open the curtains every day. I didn’t realize how lonely I got when my mom goes to her boyfriends, and now I finally have someone to talk about that with. We have a good connection, and I’m becoming better at making boundaries. I’m becoming better at voicing my opinions as well. She’s taught me to stick up for myself, but all the credit doesn’t go to her; I’ve been working on my mental health for a long time, and I feel like I’m in a healthy balanced place where I can overcome shit that used to make me spiral.

It’s not all peaches and butterflies, unfortunately. My friend is staying here because her mom has mentally abused her for too long, and I spend too much time worrying about her mental health. We had to go to the food bank yesterday because money has been scarce. I get guilty, because I was the one who brought this girl in our lives. I don’t want us to struggle financially because I’m too nice to people who I think deserve a chance. I can tell she wants to get on her feet, but there’s only so much I can do to help her. It’s all about her mind and what she’s willing to do to get to where she wants. Sometimes I wish I could just control everything around me, moving the pieces to where they’re supposed to go, but that isn’t life. I can’t keep putting other people before my own happiness.

A lot of things have been coming up from my childhood. My therapist tells me it’s because I’m starting to feel more grounded to the earth and myself. Ironic, as soon as you start feeling better about all the things in your past, that’s when the flashbacks start. That’s when all the things you supressed for years bubbles it’s way to the surface. Sometimes I cry, and I let myself. Sometimes I scream, and I let myself. I know this is normal and it is a sign of stregnth, not weakness. My mind thinks it’s strong enough to withold all this trauma, and I know I’ll get through it.

I’m in a youth mental health group and it’s been a real eye opener for me. I was always opposed to groups; how would knowing other people suffer help me? Wouldn’t that make me feel worse? Well, no; it makes me feel less alone. It’s a place where everyone understands anxiety and depression and anger and self hatred, no judgmentns. I’ve been contributing a lot to the conversations, and I’m proud of myself for that. I talk about my struggles and what’s going on in my life. The counsellors there are pretty great, and I’m glad my therapist litterally dragged me to that first group. I’m more opinionated, gaining more self confidence.


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