It’s been a rough day, well it’s hard to explain. I woke up feeling so exhausted. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I was in it. That comfortable depression. I somehow managed a shower and my meds. But what got me here, that has to do with what I told you yesterday. After, I read those journals and my boyfriend got out of his meeting, on our way back, I told him about it. Somehow, he ended up talking about how if I’m going to go down this road, dealing with trauma, using exposure therapy, I should start with the biggest one first. That way the others would be easier to handle. 
He had a point. 
But, before I tell you what I did next, let me tell you something about this trauma. I have never spoken of my feelings about it to another living soul. I have never written about it in a journal of mine. I have pushed it so far down that it has never popped up in my mind. For me, this is my hole, the one I was afraid that if I went in, I would not get out. The one thing I would not dare face because I didn’t, don’t think there is any coming back from it. It is the only thing, in my life, I believe I can never get over. 
To many of you, it may not seem like a trauma. It may not seem bad at all but I’ll tell you, I’ve heard it all before. And unless you actually know what it’s like because most people don’t, then I kindly ask you to not say anything. I can see it from a non bias, well the other side perspective but this is mine. This happened to me. I know all about the reasons. How good the intention may have been. But please, respect my side of things as well, that’s all I ask. 
Well, I took my boyfriends words and told him I would start to talk to him about it. Then we stopped somewhere, so I could use the lady’s room and the idea just hit me. Like bricks. 
I decided I would not speak about it but rather I would write a letter. A letter finally pouring out my true feelings to the person that I couldn’t ever tell them to. The whole way back, I was writing this, anger swelling inside me. 
I couldn’t finish the letter because it got too much but I read it out loud to him. I finally spoke my truth to someone. For the first time ever, I let it out, in writing and out loud. 
When we got back he asked me, if this person were here, right in front of you, what would you say? I told him I wouldn’t say anything because I don’t want to hurt them. He told me, he would get them to listen to me, so I could tell them, because I also would tell them something that would not hurt them. I think he wants me to have peace. 
Going down that hole, I didn’t think, I’d be okay but I’m here right now writing this. To tell you, I feel in a way at peace. I’m going to add to my letter and then post it after I post this. The more I talk about it, the more it’s out there… The more I begin to heal. 
On the car ride to therapy, I listened to 2 songs on repeat. One, gave me the answer I was looking for. The other, a song that had meaning about this, I hadn’t been able to hear but it didn’t make me cry. I felt strong. 
So, finally, who is this person and what was the trauma? She’s my birth mom and it’s my adoption. 


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