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To Touch the Authentic Me

When I was a kid and I moved around from home to home, I had the legal right to contact Jehovah's Witnesses and talk to them. I contacted them every single chance I could.

Since I had so much contact with Jehovah's Witnesses through various avenues, it stands to reason that I'd run into some of them now. I ran into the daughter of a woman my sister and I stayed with. She knows me. She remembers how bad it was and what we came from. She knows my birth name. She knows I have multiple personality disorder. I felt naked standing in front of her but I couldn't help but think to myself, Faith, you lived through impossible situations. Your reality, Faith, is that you lived when others didn't. That means something. That took a lot of work. And I'm still alive. That means something. It takes a lot of work just to exist. Yeah, my mind is fractured and my body is ... broken.... but how amazing is it to have an opportunity to truly live in freedom from ... them? How amazing and .... nauseating. The memories and nightmares associated with enduring her makes me nauseous but they do not erase the fact that I have an enduring spirit and that I truly understand what it means to be free.

There's so much to say. I want to keep writing because I don't want to leave it in my head or forget. I'm going to keep writing until I've eased the burden in my head of holding these thoughts.

I keep trying not to cry. I feel so many things after running into that lady tonight. Sadness, anguish, grief, longing and more sadness pours out, but I also feel that same strength I felt as a kid. That same quite little girl I used to be is still in me. The same quiet girl had a fierce will to live, to explore, to learn, to see. That little girl changed to be what my mother designed, but I can still feel the person I was before that change. I can still feel the little girl before her innocence was gone. It's taken over 2 decades of therapy to do it, but being able to touch the authentic me again is worth having endured 45 years of life. It truly is.

As a child and young adult I survived vacations with her, shopping trips, spa treatments, hunger, rape, living in cars and sleeping on the street. I survived foster homes, filthy homes, mice, maggots, mold and my mother's voice on my mind. I survived her.. I did. I sure did.

11:29pm EST April 11, 2017

This entry ends with I have nothing and everything.

No need to feel nervous, comment if you'd like.

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