Positively Positive

Well, therapy does help. I'll never speak out against it.

Everytime I come home recently, I feel like the weight is a little lighter, and the sun's a little brighter... know what I mean? The world is looking up. I'm taking responsibility for what's mine, assigning blame where it's due, and best of all, trusting in ME. No mom to speak her 2 cents on everything I do. Day in, day out I can just be me and appreciate it. I can love who I am.

For a woman who professed that was the one thing she tried to teach me, she had surefire ways for keeping me down. Like choosing my clothes, telling me I was too fat, being condescending rather that uplifting. Focused solely on the harm I've caused in life, rather than the fact I was supposedly what she'd always wanted. A child. Not a friend, or a Barbie Doll to show off.

I love how I'm starting to feel. I hate the fact I may never speak to her again. But it's helping me, and if it helps me for now, then I have to honour that.

I've been looking for work all morning and am about to take a break from the computer. It feels good to really be excited about going out - not scared or anxious.

I'm gonna make it after all. And then everyone can bite me. ;-)