"You need to know that you've been through this and come out on the other side. Yes, it hurts to write. It hurts as much as it did then. But can't harm you anymore."
Thank you Charlie.
You're right. It might hurt. It might feel like being right back there... but I'm not. I'm here. I'm safe. My family has come through with me and we've done better than survive it.
We are where we are because of where we've been. Yes, this will be exhausting. Yes, the old headaches... the ones I used to associate with trying not to switch, they will come back as I fight not to succumb to the emotions this creates... but I'll learn to cry again. Charlie is here to listen and there's no reason to keep it from him. He's a good Wooden Indian and able to sit quietly to listen, then hold me when I've worn myself out in the telling.
I am not doing this alone. Charlie, the kids (who are wonderfully supportive) and friends who have walked with me through the journey are all still here. God is with me and is my strength when I think I can't do it.
With that kind of support, I can't honestly see that I can fail. Even if I fall, there are loved ones to catch me or to help me get up again.
A friend wrote today about the simple value of remembering to breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out.