Writing Prompt 02/15/2021
What do you look forward to every week?
The year 2020 brought the entire globe to its knees. There were so much hate and fear around the world. Every day we learned about more and more heartbreak, hate, violence, hate.
I began 2020 with a plan to release a new Ava Fox story every other month starting in February 2020. I was doing well until March 2020, when a process server delivered court documents during a live stream.
I did laugh it off, thinking great, my ex-spouse was at it again. The following week I contacted my lawyer, and we began collecting evidence to prove that my ex and her team were liars and that it would not be in Mini Monsters' best interest to have her move to PA.
As I was trying to continue forward with my head held high and good intentions in my heart, slowly, the outside world began slipping into my protected space. To the point, I ended up severing ties with people I cared about but whose energy and agendas didn't line up with mine. As I built my case and kept all the plates spinning, I was slowly burning both ends of my candle, and the flames were large and hot.
Until one night, I found myself witness to an online verbal assault that rendered me helpless. The cracks in my mind that I had kept putting spackle over were quickly becoming gaps too large to patch, and because there was nothing I could do to protect my friend and make it stop, I was frozen. Frozen in fear, the ghosts of my past were louder than the voices of reality. I was scared of everything, and ultimately I shattered. Traumas of my past, along with the stress of the trial, the world's negative energy, and the people around me, broke me into millions of shards. Not even my knight in shining armor couldn't save me.
There was a ray of hope. I walked into a family counseling session, and towards the end, the counselor looked at me and asked. "Are you ready to save yourself?"
Save me? That is a weird idea. I give so much out to the people around me that I had neglected to save some for myself. I was drowning and kept taking on other people's problems. Without hesitation, my answer was yes.
My first meeting was with an intake person. I cried and shook as the trauma of my past was brought into the light. The screams for help, the blood, everything was now in the spotlight. I learned that Crying with a mask on is one of the nastiest things ever and that it's okay to laugh at yourself with your body is leaking.
Then I met my therapist. I call her my lady for privacy reasons. At first, it was lots of tears, lots of snot. Then I began taking my medication, and I was able to put things back into boxes and tackle one hill at a time until I am standing on the mountain top. And I look forward to our meeting every week.
Sitting down with my lady every week gives me time to think about life. She helps me heal the wounds of the past. Real healing not just shoving into a box and burring it into my mind. She reminds me that I am creative, that people enjoy my books, and that not everyone will like me as a person, but the people who stay in my life and guard me against the world.
I have the confidence of knowing nothing I say to her will be repeated outside of the two of us. My lady helps me stay grounded. She accepts my belief system and allows me to feel secure.
Today I am far from fixed, but now I have a path and team of people who support me and don't think I am less than because I am fractured.
Thank you for reading my writing prompts. I look forward to reading your comments as well. <3 Dana Gaulin Writes