I Thought Life Would Look Different

I turn 24 in approximately 10 days.

You guys know, I don't like birthdays. I'm not a huge fan of the extra attention, looking back on yet another year that has come and gone, nor remembering how much I had planned to do before getting to this point.

When I was younger, I had hoped to at least be married by now. But, I'm solidly single. I've been single for several years now, and no prospects of that changing any time in the near future.

I had hoped to be in Small Town; learning more, training new staff, and working up the career ladder there.

I had hoped to be accepted into graduate school and working towards furthering my education.

Naively, I had also hoped to have started having kids by now. I want to be a young mom, but I watch those years go and go and go.

I know, I'll only be 24. Someday I will look back and remember how foolish I was for wanting to pile on all of the adult responsibilities at the same time, but I'm feeling impatient. I'm thinking of the ways that a marriage would benefit me for housing, companionship, and general support in the simplicities of life.

Then again, I begin thinking of how difficult relationships are... You have to share in a marriage. Share a kitchen, a bathroom, a house, a bed, and your life with another person. This other person was raised differently than you. Sure, you may love them, but everything that they have come from is different than what you came from. Different family dynamics, different expectations, different bedtime routines, different views on life, different food/cooking preferences, and different ideas of how marriage is supposed to work.

As if that weren't enough, you have to share your day with them. Share thoughts, feelings, and emotions and try to continue to connect with them... every day.

And, if that all doesn't have your feathers ruffled, you're supposed to share your body with them as well?



I know, I know. Here's yet ANOTHER stinking post about how stupid trauma has effected my life and how I am sad about what it's done. I should be able to just get over it eventually, right? Didn't that time that I should have been over it come and go? Shouldn't I be moving on? Finding joy? Starting life over and hoping for the best?

Well, kind of. I guess I'm still mourning. I'm mourning the loss of what was stolen from me. I'm mourning for the dreams that I killed and buried all those years ago. I'm mourning the years of life stolen from me, as I have been climbing my way out of a deep, deep pit I was forced into. I'm mourning the life that cannot be, the goals that cannot be fulfilled, and the plans that I had.

G-d has different plans, better plans than I could ever imagine. He's got plans that will hopefully make a beautiful tapestry out of the tangled ends that I have come to. He's got plans that are so far beyond my comprehension, that I will never understand them.

However, I'm allowing myself to mourn this anniversary of life.

3 years ago, I came to this season with excitement, but low expectations, for my 21st birthday. I decided to celebrate my birthday that year and tell some people. I decided to allow people to make a big deal about me. 3 weeks later, my life came to a screeching halt. I had innocence forcefully torn from me. I was held down and my pleading was ignored. Unthinkable things were done to me and it put my life on pause. For 3 years, I have been stuck in survival mode. I am beginning to break free and start to live again. However, I have lost 3 years of my life, completely. Sure, I graduated, worked, and G-d brought me through. But I didn't live.

In 7 days marks the 4th anniversary of Country Boy's death by suicide. It, in itself, was highly traumatizing for me. Upon that loss, the trauma has continued to pile on. That loss started the Complex in the Complex PTSD. He was 19. Didn't even make it until he was 20. He didn't wait until he was 21. He carried a lot of grief and pain with him. It crushed him. I still remember the pain in his eyes. The hope he had that someone else understood his grief when we started talking about death on that little date at the Starbucks in Target. I made up some crap story, but deep inside, I wanted to tell him of my struggles with suicidal thoughts too. It never occurred to me that other people struggled with it too! I didn't want to bring him down on our mini date! I didn't want to burden him with more grief and worry than he already had.



You see, I shouldn't be older than 19, in my head. I "functioned" from 19 to 21, but L-rd knows I wasn't living. My life slowed down with the death of Country Boy. At the moment of my first assault with exboyfriend, my life came to a standstill. Time with exfiance was spent fighting to breath another day, and continued to stand still.

So now, I get to my 24th birthday feeling like a failure. Where has my life gone?