This isn't the first time I got away from my family and now I find myself at a familar dilemma.
That would be "What's the point, now?"
Something I haven't seen much when reading about other people who escaped abusive relationships is what happens after. What they do after.
That's something I've struggled with. I made getting away from my family pretty much my main priority in life. My Raison d'Etre. Now that I accomplished that, I'm struggling to think of what to do next. "Happily Ever After" and "Live my life" are too vague missions.
The closest mission I feel like I currently have is to make sure those assholes stay out of my life, which is really just depressing. Seriously, I just put in the effort to not just cut off each of the three shitty family members several times each, but now I might have to spend the rest of my life keeping them out of my new life? Kinda sucks the desire to live out of ya.
Live in peace? Yeah, kinda struggling with that thanks to possible PTSD from it all if the flashbacks and nightmares of those assholes have anything to show. I went to that appointment and they put me on the list, but that'll take another month or two before I get help. I might not even make it because it'll be close to other health appointments.
There was that whole idea of finding my own community, but I can't really focus on that when I'm worried about just paying the bills and keeping food on the table. I do have resources, but I'm afraid of being too dependent on them. I don't know when there's gonna be strings attatched.
A part of me is sure that it'll work out by the end of the year (or at least eventually) and I'll wonder why I ever worried in the first place, but right now I'm just trying to find my way, stretch my resources, and indulge in little freedoms. Sometimes I've read back on the previous chapters and they remind me of what I've struggled through, what I had to sacrifice, and what I had to gain. I am grateful for my hard work and I'm sure I'll find my new point to travel to, whether it's a new community, job, or something else. But right now, the scars of the past just hurt.
Sometimes it's hard to know if doing something I enjoy is me moving on or burying my feelings.
Typically I'd try to make a more positive ending, but it's actually nice not ending things on a good note. That's not realistic.
So, I finally tried leaving my abusive family members, again. I lost count of how many other attempts. Maybe recording my thoughts in a memoir will help. There's always so much that's left unsaid.
Names and places have been changed. Discretion is advised.
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