Each day I grow a little more weary as I rexamine the past. It's exhausting, a friend of mine said 'theres no benefit to dwell on the past' and this pretty much seems to be the bog standard response for a lot of people. Whilst it is true, worrying and threating over the past does not assist you in that moment, but in the long term; grieving is essential to recovery.
I take breaks, I wax on and wax off. I may spend weeks down in the dumps, with all manners of thoughts through my mind, whilst still presenting a positive face to the world, then I get better,I become a little more proactive, I dont seem to wallow in this period. I rarely think of times past and procrasinate in whatever means I see fit. This lasts for any ammount of time, a few hours to a few weeks. I dont control these cycles, they come and go; like the wind I simply let it carry me and eventually it will calm down and always does. And each subsequent time this happens, I grow a little stronger, wiser and more weary.
I turn to the friend again, who said theres no point dwelling on the past and I told him the past was real, it happened. If I dont dwell on something thats forcing its way into my concious thought; then surely I will just be burying again, kinda like filling a huge baloon with water and tying it to the bottom of the sea floor. Eventually the rope will snap and the baloon will come crashing out, so what good is it to wait for that to happen, surely its better to float on the surface, occasialy going in and out; but doing it in a load thats managable.
I cannot ignore the past any longer, its real, it happened. I cannot agree with anyone who tells me dwelling solves nothing, it does. The scars remind me that my reality is real, that it is not a fabrication, the happiness I feel today is made from yesterday, as is the pain; so why would I ever forget what made me who I am?
I realise the conversation topic for non-survivors and survivors alike can be uncomfortable, but ignorance has never helped; just hindered.
The past is real. It happened.