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The Process Of Healing

I’ve been wanting to write this for some time, but I am still not entirely sure how to do it.

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The Process Of Healing
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I could start by saying that you hurt me, but it didn’t begin that way. We were just children who thought they were adults, playing with the idea of love. It wasn’t until months later when it became clear that what we had wasn’t love. What we had was a sad excuse for a friendship, a connection, but for something that wasn’t there.

First, it was all fun and games. We would hang out, watch movies, and sometimes you would try and hold my hand while we walked to class. Everything seemed innocent and fine, it was the calm before the storm.

After summer, the routine of school settled in. Junior year was quite possibly the most stressful of my life, dragging me head first into the first stages of depression. I began to get more anxious than normal, cry often, and lose interest in the things I had loved most. You held me in the palm of your hand, dictating my every move. I was stuck and unable to get free.

You thought it was normal, convinced me that what I was feeling was normal. But no, you were controlling me. Your words cut me sharper than any razor could, and I suffered in silence while those around me had no idea that I was suffering, because I was convinced by you that I wasn’t. Junior year went on, and I spent handfuls of days each week sitting in class, on the verge of tears, because you were playing mind games again.

Eventually it got bad enough that you told my mother. But you didn’t tell her what was really happening, you told her the source of my depression was the fact that our house was on the market, and I was sad to move out of my childhood home. You didn’t tell her that you built me up so high the first few months we dated just to tear me to pieces like I was some kind of worn out toy you didn’t want anymore. I went through therapy, pills, and an immense amount of pain without even realizing the cause was you, and not any of the other ideas you ingrained into my brain.

You let me break inside, cry myself to sleep, and ultimately leave my passions behind. You tricked me into thinking my future was you, when I wasn’t even a minor character in the story of your life. Perhaps that is what hurt the most.

Eventually, I figured it out. I tried to leave more times than I can count on one hand, but you wouldn’t let me. There must have been some reason you wanted to continue on controlling me. You convinced me not to pursue activities I wanted to pursue and you put down my music taste, my dancing, and ultimately, my self-esteem. I used to be a confident girl who didn’t care what anyone thought until I was ripped apart by your words.

But I still kept including you in my life. When you wouldn’t accept that I was leaving, I gave you second chances. I made you the most thoughtful presents, encouraged you, and gave you nothing but support. But you continued to let me down. I was stuck, so I continued through the rest of the year, knowing that once college came, I would be able to go my own way. But after we graduated, I continued to give you a chance. The day you left, you refused to let me see you. I had to beg for you to let me say goodbye and give your graduation/off to college gift to you. You assured me that everything would be fine, I’d see you in a few weeks.

I invited you to a concert because it was someone you loved to listen to. You were in an incredibly bad mood the entire time, and all I wanted to do was please you. The night ended with me driving you home, and both of us returning to our separate colleges. I didn’t know this would be the last time I’d see you, but I am thankful that it was.

When I had arrived at college, within the first few weeks, people were immediately kind to me. No one knew my story or even my name for that matter. But those around me looked into my eyes and treated me better than you ever had. The first couple of weeks, I would stay up staring at the ceiling, knowing that I wasn’t being treated right by you. I knew I had to escape. This is the reason why I called you out of the blue, ending our relationship for good. I will never understand why you sounded so happy. After all, I had tried to leave several times before, but you prevented me.

You posted something hurtful on social media for me to see. I told you I was hurt from it, you thanked me by reading the message and never responding. I blocked you on everything because of this. I want you to know that you ruined a lot of things for me, including a part of myself. You have broken parts of me that can never be healed. Some songs will never sound the same, some places I can’t visit anymore, and some words I will never speak.

It has been more than six months and I am finally gathering the words to describe the way I felt when I was a part of your game. I am pleased to tell you that now I am the happiest I have ever been. I am finding my passions, building healthy relationships, and figuring out my place in the world. I am not the same person I was before I met you. I have been damaged, but I am in the process of healing. I have become a more independent person, and I have found myself relating to those around me who struggle with similar things. I have learned that there are amazing people in this world who do care about my success and growth as a human being.

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