A Bittersweet Feeling

The more I heal the more I separate from my history, which I guess when you come from disfunction that’s the goal.

I am continually learning about what and who I come from to heal. There are moments or interactions with people from my parents’ past that remind me that I no longer think like the family I miss every day.

I come from people who were on survival mode until the day they died. The more I heal the less and less I am on survival mode. It’s when I am reminded of parts of my past that I realize I am no longer there. Which for those who know me know I can be one to live in the past. There are still times where I revert to that survival and thinking, but I am realizing for the most part I no longer am.

It is a bittersweet feeling.

In ways it’s like I am saying goodbye to my family. I have held onto them so tightly as if that would make them come back. Losing your family is hard no matter what, but losing them all while being a child puts it on another level.

I have and still am learning how to keep them with me but in a way that isn’t unhealthy. I am learning to embrace them. I also know the part of my life that they were a part of is no longer my life.

I was talking to my cousin yesterday. In high school we were best friends with two sisters, me with the older one and her with the younger one. I admitted to my cousin that I didn’t think I deserved those friendships. She asked me why, and I told her I didn’t know. As I am writing this I think one reason was because I thought they had a future and I didn’t.

I have gotten used to the pain and being forgotten. Sometimes even I think I deserve it but I deserve all of what my family dreamed me to have that they couldn’t.

I deserve to have the career I want. I deserve to have a husband. I deserve to have kids. I deserve to have a family. I deserve to be happy.