I am tired. There’s no other way to put it. I’m tired of my past following me around. I’m tired of fighting against it. I’m even more tired of having to fight. I wish my life was as simple as we read in books, where characters face challenges, conquer them, and emerge stronger, and there’s your happy ending.

If I were to write a book, it’d probably be so freaking long. I guess there’s a reason for writing a blog instead. Who’d read my book, anyway? My point is, navigating what I’m going through feels like a lifelong sentence. I’m just trapped in a prison with my past, a beast I’ve not had enough courage to even discover the weight of.

I know I’ve been in therapy for 3 years now and it has helped, I did address a lot of things. I guess I did learn what living with this beast is like, how to navigate around it, how to deal with little things it throws at me. I did also learn how to tame it a bit at a time. Somehow it continues to surprise me.

Today, I did a lot of Christmas shopping, carefully selecting gifts for the people I care about. I even got stocking stuffers for my pets, only family I have here. However, as I realized I’ll be sitting alone at home with my own stocking empty and no human around to celebrate the day with, sadness crept in. Isn’t this the time of the year where you get together with your loved ones? Do I not have any?

Perhaps I’m wrong, cause I’m buying gifts for these people. But to give them when they’re available, not with someone who’d make time to be here with me that day. I am bad at the whole positive self-talk thing. I wanna tell myself that it’s just a day, we’ll celebrate it another day. But, I can’t make it convincing enough anymore.

Now, let’s talk about how my past connects to my loneliness. I thought about David, who is currently celebrating Thanksgiving with his family and will be with them throughout Christmas and New Year’s. I consider him lucky, as anyone who gets to love their family and be with them for special days.

David and I agreed to disconnect for the duration of his trip to assess our feelings for each other. Over time, I started realizing something scary. I mentioned in my previous post that I’ve let my guard down, am vulnerable with him and that I wasn’t freaking out. That’s still true, so hear me out.

I know he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me or take any decision lightly. That gives me sense of peace. We’re not in a committed relationship yet, and there are few uncertainties to address, like – him potentially moving out of state for grad school to get a PhD, him possibly not missing me at all during the time away, my potential trauma episodes scaring him away, etc.,

Now, let me explain how this ties into my past being a formidable beast. If I had tamed this beast and it played nice with me, my reaction to these uncertainties would not have been – ‘Yup, I gotta start walking backward and distance myself from this’. I wouldn’t be blaming myself for people walking away on me, for living in fear of people who did stay leaving. Yes, I’m insecure. Despite loving openly and deeply, a sign of resistance from those I hold dear makes me start pulling away, as if closing my protective shell.

The only people who assured me of my safety and security in a relationship are Sonia and her partner. So, there’s hope for me, I suppose. I remember discussing this with my therapist and in my blog; it’s an ebb and flow in life. Maybe they weren’t who I needed to be with anyway, etc.,

But what about my mom? Since I was 5, I’ve heard that I was lucky to have her, that I would’ve been abandoned otherwise. I was 8 when my mom attempted suicide, and I later learned that ending my life was considered too. I was 11 when my grandma suggested my mom to adopt me out, and I was part of the discussions. I was 12 years old when my mom searched for adopters because her potential partner might not like her holding onto me. I was 14 or 15 when she fell seriously ill, so much that they told me she might not make it. There were discussions within my family on what to do with me if that happened – whether to keep me or throw me out as if I were a mere object. No one seemed to care.

I’m grateful I still have my mom, but the fear of abandonment developed over a decade, making me fearful even when I have the person right next to me. Will anyone care what happened to me? Will I just be tossed like my family once believed I should be? Will I always be an option, never the priority? Is spending holidays with my alone self a norm for me now? I hope not.

Dear Past, I acknowledge you. I hear your presence. I would still see you and hear you without this prison you’ve built around me. Please set me free!