Tears & The Traumatic

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Confession: Ever since I was a little girl, I have possessed the super-human  – and arguably, completely unhealthy – ability to repress memories. Like literally, there are chunks of my life that I don’t remember!

The last year is no exception.

“Its all just a blur,” I told God while away at a lake house a couple of weeks ago. The only memories I can think of off the top of my head being, the months I wasn’t able to make eye contact with my husband, the physical impossibility it was to fall asleep without the aid of sleep meds – lots of them – and the panic attacks, each one more terrifying than the last. One, can never forget the panic attacks…

Other than that, there isn’t a lot I clearly remember about the last year.

Maybe that’s a good thing, I told myself while at the lake. Maybe not remembering the traumatic was God’s way of protecting me and helping me move forward. But it wasn’t, I knew it wasn’t. Not right now at least.

I could feel God asking me to remember

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