2012 I wrote it all.
The problem was I wrote it in my family blog. I never published any of it, I was ashamed of my story and ashamed of myself.
I decided to open another blog so I could keep my family blog upbeat and happy.
I converted a lot of what I had written in 2012 and moved it over in 2014, to the new blog which I had named.
HalfemptE.
This blog was about the hard truths of life and what they had taught me.
This is how I viewed myself at the time.
I remember even changing my signature on my phone to 🦇$hit€r@zy...
I truly thought I was.
Visiting the past hasn’t been easy!
I have had to go back through the blogs my family blog elisecurtis.blogspot.com
Then I went back through the HalfemptE blog. As I had been pushed to write my story, I wondered what to rename this blog? I decided on Unshatteredpieces.
I knew somewhere inside me there had to be some pieces left that weren’t damaged and broken and I desperately prayed to find them. Visiting the past hasn’t been easy.
I was being told over and over many times to share my story. This had come in many forms as early as July and I had tried to push it away. There was a reason I had all these unpublished posts. There it was my past staring back at me on a screen.
The past I thought about every waking day.
The past that haunts my dreams and clouds my reality.
Visiting the past and seeing my life as I knew it, the life that I now question.
Was it really even real?
Did it actually happen?
I can see it with my own eyes, feels it with my own heart.
Proof, words and photos staring back at me that it did exsist!
The work that I have done on these simple words.
“I faked it”
As I went back looking for the posts written from the past, Praying to know what to write, what was it I am to share?
I came across my life! The pictures the moments, 25 years spent building a life.
I look at that life and I question.
How did someone else fake that?
How could I just live a fake happy life?
Truth, I don’t know.
Reality has been altered.
Damage that may never be repaired in this lifetime.
I work really hard on these simple words...
“IT WAS REAL TO ME.”
This visiting the past, seeing the old post and the good and the bad, reading them is proof of that.
So many truths and knowing that this was just an option, not worth the fight.
That torment, that truth along with that statement. That statement haunts me to my very core.
FAKE!
Trying to believe any of it was real and knowing what I felt. My head and my heart battle this out, wage war against each other.
Pieces of me scattered all over thoes past posts.
Searching for the unshattered pieces of myself. The empty shell of a person who once was. Where did she go?
Why did she leave?
What happened to her?
Where is that joy?
Was it real?
This past life that was real to me.
loving any of those pieces that are left has been a daily battle.
That struggle of reading the past chapters of my life.
The next chapters of the past are about to get really dark.
For whatever reason these words were written by me, for me in 2012.
They were again revisited and transferred in 2014.
2019 the past being brought to life and it was real!
I know the lord has a hand in my life. I know he is guiding this path, I know there are angel on the other side who have and are holding my hand in times of need. My darkest hours they are with me and wrapping arms around me.
As painful as it is, and as damaging as it feels, he is pushing me to share my story.
This story isn’t only for me but for you who have felt this same way.
The many others who have been told part of their past is fake, part of who they are doesn’t exist.
Parts of there story has been ripped away by another’s choices.
Parts of them are missing because they have lost more then they could ever imagine.
This part of my story isn’t going to be easy to tell.
I have been asking the lord how to heal.
How to feel whole and I know there is no other way. I have put it off long enough.
Share that’s the answer I contuine to get and this chapter is about to get dark.
So much of your story is the same as mine. I had infidelity, but mine was male and female. I also had drugs mixed in with the infidelity. The distance, the questioning, the trust, the always feeling anxious. I was told I was crazy. I was on medication because I was crazy, but I wasn’t crazy! I was trying to keep a marriage together. The manipulation. The suicide attempts. The secrets. The secrets I kept for him that was killing me.
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