Alright. So it's not a JW lyric. Give me a break. This is my first ovulation cycle spent alone since coming clean from antidepressants. My experience on mild medication was as difficult for me as it was for my Knight. I started to slowly hate myself on the drugs. I spent a lifetime learning to love who I am, and being this completely different person, with different needs, was more less that helpful in the long run. I put my whole self into trying them. No guilt now that meds could make our life easier. They don't.
It has been difficult becoming re-used to myself. As we readjust to ME, we pass the 10 year mark of me living in this house with my knight. I love that man. It took him more than five years to accept that I self-identify as crazy. To him, I am reasonable, even perfect. He was the first man with an open heart that ever wanted ME. I joke when discussing the "interesting" aspects of my Knight, that no sane person would want me. Probably that's true. Who cares? An AMAZING person wants me. And I love him. When he holds me I am not scared. I am scared almost all the time. I can't go back in time and unscar my heart. I wouldn't want to. Me without the scars is not ME. I'm the person this amazing man wants, loves. I have no regrets. Not even the pain. I don't regret it. It reminds me that everything I want is in this house--the safety, the acceptance, the love, the children. In just a couple nights, that man, that knight, will hold me. Rules about co-dependency can fuck off. He taught me that the scars are just what they are--the past. If he is my constant reminder of that, and that is codependency, then call me codependent.
A casual friend recently stepped up to delve into my deep feelings and said it was truly brave to share the dark in the first place. She says if anything, I am brave, not codependent. Maybe I'm healing. It's been years in the making. I want to heal. I want to love.
