Without title (post Christmas blues)

I didn't wake up today wanting to kill my parents (nor anyone else). I didn't wake up today wanting to scream all my hate and anger into their faces. Nor have I woken up with this feeling in my chest that something is crushing me. Finally. Merry Christmas!

The last few days have been hard, painful. Christmas blues. Today I see some light at the end of the tunnel. A sunny day. An emotionally calmer day.

Yesterday was the worst day, and not only because of the desire to kill my parents (they live far away (as far as I know they live - I have no contact with them), and I am a pacifist). The anxiety was crushing me. The connection with my past, with my childhood. With my loneliness, with my sadness. With the pain of my childhood - with a lot of pain. The night before I had a small anxiety attack, I had to cry, but I was blocked. Last night, I had a much stronger anxiety attack, I cried a lot more. It was painful. But it was also a release. The pain of the child that was I had to come out.

This child I have now found. This does not mean that I now have more memories - no - but I feel a certain connection - often painful - with this child. This child that was I. I always said that I started living the day I left my parents' house, and there is some truth in this. But at the same time, with this perspective I was cutting off all contact with this child, this teenager who that was I. Rather, the day I left my parents' house my recovery began. From this day on, initially very slowly, I began to remove some of the armor, the multiple layers of armor, that I had built up since I was very young to survive, to defend myself. I began to open or break some parts of this armor, I began to live, to breathe, and after a while, to feel.

It's still painful sometimes. It's still hard sometimes this connection with this child. But necessary. I'm realizing that this child is also giving me strength. Strength to imagine another world, a more just world, without violence, without destruction of life. Strength to fight (and how this child has fought) and to build this other world. Strength and also resilience to recover after a blow.

I continue to recover. I continue to struggle to connect with this child. I continue to encounter his pain and sadness, but also his strength and desire for another, better world. A desire that feeds me. A desire that gives me the strength for my struggles today. My struggle for a world without gender, for climate justice, for a world without violence, destruction and injustice. For this world that this child that was I imagined.