Finding My Way Back To Me

[quantumcupcakes]

In the continuing saga of Sam regaining her mental health and stability, today I had something of an epiphany. While coming out of the fog and feeling like I'm finding my way back to myself. And I realised that I'm still myself. I'm still me and that even though I've lost someone who was so important in shaping the woman I am, it doesn't make me any less myself.

I'm still a bisexual polyamorous Dominant. I still love Jack and Lucy. I'm still a wife and a girlfriend, a daughter, a sister, and a twin. I'm still an aunt and a step-mum.

I'm still a geek. I still love to bake. I still love rugby and chess and dancing and kaleidoscopes and thunderstorms and floral dresses and big stompy boots and leather jackets and 80s pop music and science-fiction and superheroes and chick-lit. I'm still fascinated by astrophysics, space exploration, engineering, and mechanics - and you should have heard my excitement over that picture of the black hole.

I went running today for the first time this year. I've lost a lot of my fitness, sadly but I'm determined to get it back. I did no more than three-quarters of a mile, running for a minute and walking for two and I'd forgotten how meditative it is; focusing on breathing, the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement.

However, it caused me to fail my 'week without complaining' - I whined at Lucy about my legs being sore. So we start again tomorrow, back at day one.

Comments

[ldybastet]

That's a great realization! I had a similar the other week, when I felt like I could recognize myself, the feeling of being me, from way back, before psycho ex bf and the following years of drama and financial ruin. And it was good, and I realized that "this me" is still inside me. It's just other things (chaos, stress, fear, insecurity, depression, etc.) hiding it and I'm still myself. :) I'd say it's a good start to finding one's way back. *offers hugs*

[silveradept]

I might still want to hear the glee about the picture of the black hole.

I'm glad that you have the anchor that you are still yourself, even when things pile on enough that you feel life that person isn't there any more.