My therapist told me
that I have a way with words.
She  said that I am able to tell the story
without telling the story.

As if my word wasn’t good enough to be heard
so I made a collage of pictures that were easier to handle. Cut and paste smaller chunks to complete a sentence. As if the sentence was ever really complete. My trauma was too large to swallow. How sad that must be.

Once my therapist told me that if I hadn’t had a life full of trauma I would not have survived my most previous. And maybe she is right.

But today I was informed that my ****** was being released early from prison. His six year sentence was too long for him. Well I will have to fight for my life for the rest of my life. how exhausting that can be.

Work release program. As much as I believe in prison rehabilitation I never thought that it would come to backfire. Never once did I think my core values would become my enemy. Now I’m a slave to my bleeding heart.

find a new place. find a new beginning. find a new life so that he can’t ruin what I have restored. They say I am crazy for being afraid, as if he hasn’t broken me to the pieces that I was. As if he hadn’t shattered what was remaining before.

Today I went to a store I bought every weapon that I could buy without purchasing a gun because my therapist told me she was afraid that I would try to attempt again. She cried. And for the first time in my life I realized that someone does care.

Even with the catastrophic news, I have learned something new. I am resilient. I am so much more than I was before. And if anyone should be afraid, it should be him. I am no longer lost. I am no longer fragile. And I will not run in place any more.