Trauma recovery is not a pastel-colored Instagram story. It is not an all expenses paid backpacking trip across Europe. It is not a spunky, relatable podcast about grit.
Recovering from trauma is messy. And confusing. And humiliating. Your memory is shot to hell, your critical thinking skills are impaired, your risk assessment is on the fritz and you are paranoid. You waffle between terror and manic bravery. You want to tell everyone everything that happened, and you want to never think about it again.
You feel alive! Free! Empowered! And you want to crawl into bed and stay there forever.
After I left an abusive relationship, I tried to go back to previous versions of myself like I was loading a video game save file. I attempted to reconnect with exes because I wanted to go back to the person I was in those relationships, in the rose-tinted days before I met my abuser. I read my diaries from high school like I could reach through the pages and grab a different future.
Ella Dawson 