I Could Be Happy

I Could Be Happy

         The situations I have been through far exceed my years.

         Growing up, I was always told I had an 'old soul', a soul too old for my body age. When, in fact, I was just a good listener. I could sit for hours listening to people tell me about all of the terrible things that have happened to them in their life. I sat so good, that my mother treated me like the adult she thought I was.

         I was only ten.

         The PTSD I carry with me, is not my own. If the adults around me would've just acted their age, I would be normal. If I didn't have to act as a therapist for people twice my age, I would be okay.

         I could be happy, not worrying about being twenty two with no real future because every little thing in the universe gives me crippling anxiety. I could be happy, not crying over not having a real family, just people I know I'm related to. I could be happy without wondering when the next crack will make every good thing in my life fall apart, yet again.

         But I am not normal. I am broken. I am not happy. I do worry. I do cry.

         And that is okay.

         Now, I know a family does not have to be blood related. I have a future, I just have to find it first, and life happens, that doesn't mean everything has to be broken.

         I vowed to fix my broken pieces. To heal from the childhood I would not wish upon my worst enemy.

         I am a mess of miss-match shards of the best people I have ever met and super glued puzzle pieces of the love I have received that I did not think I deserved, and I am happy.