Get Up

Since I can remember, I have dealt with moments of the "Blues." Melancholy, sadness, whatever you want to call it; it was there, lurking. My Mama always said that I "think too much", as if in some way my melancholy was my fault. Impatiently she would say "Get Up!" or ask in a frustrated voice "What is the matter with you.. NOW!?" I never could answer because that would have opened up a can of worms. As a child, how do you say molestation? How do you broach that subject when you are scared and humiliated? It took me years to see the correlation between my weight gain, depression and my self-imposed solitary confinement and connect the dots straight to, as I like to refer to them "The Bitter Years." I have said this before and I will reiterate: What you don't deal with in your twenties, will bite you in your thirties and dang near kill you in your forties." Once I recognized and allowed myself to forgive myself for whatever I thought I should have done or said; I could ACT on my behalf. I could get up and get help. No shame, no regrets, no guilt and no more secrets. I look back and sometimes feel ashamed that I took so long to get to it, that I abused food as if shoveling food into my mouth would quell the secrets that wanted to come forth. Shame doesn't live here anymore. I am no one's victim, nor am I a martyr. I'm just a women that learned that it is okay to tell your story and then walk away from it, to lean on others for help does NOT make you weak,and happiness IS a choice. We can't control what happens to us as children, I wish that we could. But we do control how we deal with our past and not let it deal with us,good,bad or ugly. I wish you Truth. But most of all, I wish you Peace.