When you’ve suffered a cornucopia of mental, emotional and physical trauma over a sustained period of time, it can be tricky to know when you’re healed. You get so comfortable with your bandages, procedures, and therapies – both figurative and literal – that they become part of you in unintended ways. Life starts to become viewed as a series of trials to overcome, and after a while you begin looking for them in places they don’t exist. And when this happens, it becomes really hard to accept being in a fully-healed state as a real scenario.
That’s not to say I haven’t had plenty of high points in the last few years, as some of the highest peaks have accompanied my lowest valleys. It’s just to face the fact that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel complete, and not in a perpetual state of healing.
But I think I’m good now. Not perfect, but damn good.