Moving from victim to survivor to thriver means enduring the pain and joy of growth and change. It means letting go of what was once integral but is now inhibiting. No matter how necessary, it isn't easy.

    My Sweetest Sorrow--you kept me in tears, softening my heart and emptying my soul. You served me well, having cleansed the filth left by a thousand hands. Finally the funeral for years gone by is over and so you must make way for today and tomorrow. Thank you for my empathy and awareness.

    My Cherished Rage--the surname of my violence, anger, and intolerance. You took years to develop, hidden beneath too many layers of anguish. In glorious outbursts you changed the course of my life. Finally, they knew I'd hit back. You served me well, keeping me from being revictimized by those who would. At last there exists no threat and so you must make way for peace and serenity. I credit you with teaching me assertiveness and self-defense.

    My Dearest Depression--you took me to the limits of inner turmoil and the edge of my existence. Under your cloud, all was over-shadowed. You served me well, letting me sleep for all the lost hours of my youth. At last I am rested and so you must make way for life's energy. Those who see the sun everyday take the light for granted. Only in the narrow lifting of your cloud did I need to shield my eyes from the brilliance of my children's faces. I credit you then for the gift of sight.

    My Precious Hatred--it is hardest to say goodbye to you because we've been together the longest. You have served me well, allowing me the need to stay connected to those I hoped loved me and the distance necessary to determine that they loved no one, not even themselves. Because of you, I can see lies and betrayal before they see me. At last there are no traitors and so you must make way for love. I can now care deeply for others only becasue of the depths you left behind.

    If such can be loved, then I have loved all of you. If such can be grieved, then I grieve the passing of your dedication and loyalty. No better friends had I.

    I move into some form of wellness of my own accord but I didn't get here by myself. While I no longer need these things, I do not discard them with nonchalant snobbery. Instead I lay my allies to rest with respect and gratitude.

    From these deaths emerges much life--the life of the child I was, who ran in the fields of the true self, the life of the young adlult who struggled with what was and what was to be, and finally, my life now, where because of all that I have been, I can truly be.

     

    What Diana has written about, hopefully I will acheive one day. Diana, you give me hope that all is not lost forever. Thank you.

     

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