The past hurts

I’ve been feeling the grind this week, while Lynn has been away.

Between looking after the store, the house, and my other commitments my fatigue level is definitely climbing.

It’s been a good week though. I’ve gotten a bunch of yard work done so the back yard is looking good for when Lynn gets home, hopefully tomorrow.

Tonight, as long as the weather holds S and I are headed up to Killam airport for an airshow. The Canadian Forces Snowbirds are in the region, and seeing as I have not had the opportunity to watch them in years it will be nice to see them again.

I grew up to the snowbirds practising near my home as a youth in the Comox Valley. For three or so weeks every spring they use the mild weather of the valley to hone their skills before they begin their relatively busy tour season in the spring and summer. It’s just one of the little things that I miss about BC, though that list is short compared to my reasons not to go back.

Watching the snowbirds when I was a child is one of the few childhood memories I have that I look back on fondly.

I actually don’t have a lot of childhood memories, good or bad, because I just tried to stay under the radar and get through.

Even today, my memory is a fickle thing. I can forget why I walked into a room, but I can remember trauma and abuse I suffered at the hands of bullies when I was a kid.

The thing is, there are elements of my past that hurts. The bullying. The feeling emotionally disconnected to people because of how intensely I felt, and continue to feel, emotions. My emotions shredded me from the inside out, and I didn’t understand why no-one else could feel them with the same fire that I did.

I still feel emotions intensely, and I regularly have to ask Lynn if I’m over-reacting to things. However, the further along this journey I am, the better control and understanding I have into myself.

The past hurts.

It’s not pleasant. It’s not pretty. It’s locked in.

I have tried remaining in the past for far too long.

Physically I’m 40, mentally there are times I still feel like a teenager. I am learning how to be stronger, though. I’m learning to embrace my past instead of trying to distance myself from it. I’m learning to draw strength from it., because despite my trials and tribulations, I have survived 100 per cent of everything that I have gone through up to this point.

With that understanding sitting with me, it makes me realize that I’m a bad-ass. I’ve been through hell, and I’ve walked out again. I’m stronger mentally and physically than I ever thought I could be, and I have skills I knew nothing about.

My writing.

My photography.

These are things that I seem to have a natural aptitude for, and things that I never would have found if it wasn’t for the journey behind me.

My life hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t change a thing.


2 responses to “The past hurts”

  1. bpdbloggerwithkids Avatar

    Exactly… if you changed one thing about your life, none of it would be the same!


    1. I just wish it didn’t take me 40 years to figure it out, lol.

      Liked by 1 person

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