I typed through my tears, reliving it as I pounded the keys of my laptop, my five year old sitting beside me in bed watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates.
I thought it would make me feel better to share...to process it and move on. And yet since I hit publish I feel more stuck. Like I am in quicksand.
I feel totally raw and exposed and out of control..just like that eleven year old girl I once was.
Still I feel compelled to share what happened.
I am remembering things long forgotten. I am bulldozed by the memories and the tears explode for my eyes...as I walk on the track, as I drive to swim lessons, as I match socks.
This isn't something you get over, but something you get through. I thought I was ready to go through it again, but now I'm uncertain.
I know there have been comments and I am sure they are amazing and supportive will make me cry but I cannot read them yet. Please forgive me.
I thank each and every one of you who has commented or shared my story.
I will write the rest of it.
Rip the bandage off and expose the oozing, festering wound.
And I will be stronger and better for it.
Thanks to Shell for giving me a place to pour it all out.