Holidaze
The holidays seem to be a hard time for almost anyone. Crowded stores, crowded homes, not enough money, not enough energy.
My trauma has affected my holiday events almost for as long as I can remember.
For almost two decades I held in my secret, the secret that at one point or another could of taken my life. Holding onto something so painful tends to make you closed off.
I had the generic conversations of telling my family that I was good and happy. I didn't know how to explain to them anything that was truly going on with me.
At times it almost made me resentful. I insisted that one of them must of known I was not good or happy but the moment someone would pry, I would get defensive and be upset for someone meddling into my life.
It was so exhausting battling myself and others this way.
So when the family gatherings come around—Thanksgiving or Christmas—I would try to find some quiet corner, put on a fake smile, and not breathe throughout the entire ordeal.
I'm gonna let everyone know now, I don't have a remotely normal sized family by any means. On my father's side alone I have eight uncles and one beautiful aunt, also I have more cousins than I could ever count.
A family filled with loud voices, free spirits, and big personalities.
Intimidating to almost all of my friends and even myself at times, this big beautiful family filled with people and here I am.
Alone and barely breathing.
When we are immersed in this overwhelming sadness and pain we tend to forget or not even fully open our eyes to the beauty around us.
I was not alone and I should of never felt ashamed by the actions of someone else.
That shame and guilt eats you alive and you start to push people away, people who love you.
I forgot that everyone around me has a story, everyone has a struggle. People can and will understand; we can as humans stand by each other and lift one another up.
This year I took the time to actually notice the beauty around me. A house packed with almost 40 people, so many conversations going on, so much food, and the sound of laughter.
Small children we have created forming bonds with another, much like my cousins and I did many years prior.
We had more food than I have ever seen, everyone ready and hungry.
Beautiful faces of all this family that is still here, that I could hug and talk to.
Had I not had survived my trauma I wouldn't be here to witness any of this. My son roaming this earth adventuring with his cousins and uncles. The sounds of my families laughter. None of it would have been possible.
Not everyone is as lucky to survive their trauma, I can not and will not take this life for granted.
I have a second chance.
The holidays although chaotic and wild, I pray all of us survivors can breathe and take a moment to notice some beauty around us.
Streets filled with beautiful lights, snow covered neighborhoods, the sound of laughter, just anything.
If you feel alone in a room full of people open up your eyes just a little bit wider, find someone doing a funny dance, join a conversation or even go outside and just take a breather.
Spend your time with the people you love and be yourself.
Things may not get better for days, years, decades but with some help and some love you can live, like really live.
And if you are feeling a little more down during this season please reach out, find a trusted family member, friend or even someone anonymous. You are not alone.
I hope everyone has a good holiday season and please don't forget to take care of yourself!