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The wound still feels raw, but Mitchell’s words act as a salve. I rock back and forth in his arms until the sun starts peeking through the curtains. It’s been hours since my nightmare woke me up and so much has happened.
Mitchell never leaves my side. He never lets me go. He holds me until I stretch out of his grasp and excuse myself to the bathroom.
In the mirror, I see a brand new woman. Not the person I was a week ago before all this happened. Not the person I was last night when I went to bed. Someone simultaneously stronger and weaker than I was before. She’d seen some shit. She’d gone through it. And now she was on the other side.
I splash some cold water on my face and take a few moments to stretch my limbs. I am not yet healed, I know that, but I think I’m on my way. It will take time, but that’s all I have. The days are going to pass regardless of whether or not I seek help. So why not talk to someone who can help me through this? Why not confide in my friends and the ones I love?
Healing is not a linear process, but rather, a winding path that sometimes doubles back on itself. But to be fair, nothing in life is ever straight and narrow. Your career comes with highs and lows. Your relationships face stops, bends, and breaks. Your life feels like it’s coming to an end just when you’ve reached a new beginning.
All you can do is surrender to the chaos until you find yourself on the other side. Maybe a little broken, maybe a little bruised. But stronger. Always stronger.
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