Dr. Durand says I should start writing again. Seems to think it might help me.
So I’m giving it a try.
But damn, was it painful to dig this old thing out again. I sat here for a long time flipping through some of those old entries, and…
Fuck. That was hard.
There are so many pages I just want to rip out and throw in a fucking bonfire. But… I don’t think I can. It sounds so damn crazy, but I think it’s important to keep them. So I can remember where I came from…
And make sure I never go back there again.
(I know, I know… I’m getting into all this sentimental shit. Guess spilling my soul to a shrink every week has really been doing a number on me. Ugh.)
Anyway, I guess I’m… getting there. These past several months have been kind of a rollercoaster. Things were the same for a while. Then they got a little better. Then they got worse. And now… Well, it’s back uphill, slowly but surely. It’s just so hard not to get frustrated. Discouraged, you know?
My family sure seems happy though. “You’re doing so well!” “We’re so proud of you!” “Look how far you’ve come!” Yeah, sure. Just call me the little engine that could. Choo friggin’ choo.
Changing your whole life isn’t some walk in the park or anything, that’s for damn sure. Especially all that fucking exercise. It sucks. Dr. Durand thinks I should try hitting the gym instead of the sheets when I need a pick-me-up. Something about endorphins?
I think it’s a load of BS, to be honest. And what’s the point of working your ass off for a banging body if you aren’t supposed to… well, bang anyone? (What’s that stupid old staying? “All dressed up and nowhere to go…?”) Fucking waste if you ask me. But whatever.
There is one thing that’s been helping a lot though. And it’s the stupidest fucking thing in the world.
Every morning, I’m supposed to look in the mirror and list all the things I like about myself.
And you know what?
At first, I couldn’t even think of one.
For weeks I’d stand there like an idiot every morning, just staring at myself. Hating myself. How then Hell was I supposed to say something nice about someone I couldn’t fucking stand?
Anyway, it took a while, but a couple months ago, I finally I settled on: “I look nice in blue.” (I told you, stupid).
But oh my God, it actually helped.
Do you have any idea how good it felt to finally say something – anything positive about myself? Pretty fucking great. And I held on to that for a long time. After a while, I even added another one – “I have pretty eyes.”
And today, I think I came up with a new one…
I love my sons.
This isn’t going to be easy. Not by a friggin’ longshot. I have so much shit to work through, so many mistakes to make up for… Such a long way to go.
But you know what?
For the first time in a long time…
I feel like things are gonna be okay.
Author’s Note: Goodbye, Generation 2! That was probably the most emotionally exhausting roller coaster ride I have ever written. Thank you for putting up with poor Mari these past 40 chapters!
We have a huge time jump ahead of us, so I apologize in advance for the abrupt shift coming up! About 99% of Mari’s recovery is happening “off-screen”, but we will still get some insight into what her recovery was like, as well as what issues she still struggles with in Gen 3. And believe me, she works her butt off for many years!
And now, armed with a more emotionally-stable Mari and a pair of super adorable twins, we journey onward into Generation 3! 🙂 Thank you all for reading!