Setting boundaries in a world that wishes you to have none is rather hard. Misogyny makes it ever harder; it feels like a layer of our skin is being pulled off. While we beg for it to stop, we get looks of confusion, sometimes a punch; too many of us end up dead.
Before my last two weeks in Sacramento, I believed that when I came to Utah I would be coming to speak with my mother and siblings. It was part of the plan. Life is what happens when you are busy making plans. I started to reach another layer of anxiety. I was crying and feeling resentful. In my last therapy session with my therapist, I begged for her advice. I needed to know if I was an awful person for not wanting to reach out right away. What if I never wanted to? She asked me, "Who is making you see your family?" I announced I was just, ya know, feeling pressure and some drowning sense of obligation. She told me something very important:
"You don't need to see your family until you want to. You are already healing from a lot right now. You don't have to see anyone until you are ready to."
I realized I didn't want to see my mom. I'm still torn and confused, sometimes apathetic, in regards to my siblings. So that's more shit to work through. I have to set boundaries or I will never be allotted the space to heal. I must only allow good people into my life. It is the only way I am going to make it through this alive and sober.
Today is a day.
-D
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