Damage has been done and I’m STILL trying to figure it out. When I said before after her death I felt free and lost, I meant it. I do have the love and support that I need, but it’s not easy.

Even to the end, the Stockholm Syndrome existed. But in all honesty, when she passed away, there was a sense of freedom. Freedom, but also feeling extremely lost.

I was only 15, she was 27. She, going through a divorce, me having issues at home. Two people with volatile, emotional situations looking for ways out, rules be damned.

The quiet moments are sometimes the scariest. The calm in between the hectic moments, or mindless ones.

“Do we allow this to ruin us, making our own hell, or do we use it, turn it into fuel that explodes the flames upwards like a phoenix rising from the ashes? Or do we become kings and queens of the ashes?”

Anxiety, depression, OCD, low self esteem, and on, and on, and on. All this to feel free when in reality it made me a prisoner.

See what needs fixing and seek help if you need to. Life is so vast and can go so many directions. Just gotta find our way.

I was so young and didn’t know any better. The aftermath is real though. Instead of enjoying life, diving into my likes and talents, I let those things, and myself get in the way.