For a long time, I would refer to myself as a victim of sexual and domestic abuse. Internally and when sharing my story. I was just beginning to be comfortable sharing my experiences and was still pretty screwed up in the head over it all. (Not to mention by brain was recovering from a few years of being fried by my methamphetamine use. Needless to say, I was a mental mess.)

It was so hard having to finally face all my demons without the shield of drugs and making it worse was the realization that I wasn’t just dealing with the normal ups and downs that come with early sobriety. I was also diagnosed with PTSD.

Then one day, out of the blue, I had this random realization. (Thoughts pop in and out of my head all day long, but this thought was definitely one of those “lightbulb moments.” A few seconds of clarity that has made a major impact of my mental stability.)

I wasn’t just a victim, I was a survivor.

Yeah, I went through a ton of horrible shit. But, I’m still standing. (Sure, everyday is a still a battle. Some days are all out wars. Some days aren’t even a struggle at all.) All the things I went through made me the strong woman I am today and has prepared me to be able to handle pretty much anything.

From that moment on, I refused to continue to refer to myself as a victim. If I had to keep reliving the past everyday, I might as well see the flashbacks as proof that I could make it through everyday bullsh** instead of allowing them to break me down. I decided to use them as fuel to motivate me to become the best version of myself.

It’s amazing how much changing your perspective can really do for your mental well being.

I’m living proof.


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