Day 125 — Facing Myself

Today, as I sat on that couch with my friend, I found myself reflecting on the roller coaster of emotions that have filled these past few days. Admitting to myself that "Hope" will likely never speak to me again felt like extinguishing the light in my lighthouse. My heart resists that truth, but my mind feels it’s known all along. This battle—between what I believe and what I must accept—has defined much of my journey.

The love I feel for "Hope" is true, deep, and unconditional. It’s a love that has shaped me, challenged me, and, at times, tethered me to something greater than myself. Letting go feels like surrendering a piece of my soul, acknowledging a reality I’ve fought against with everything I have. Still, I know I must keep moving forward, fighting each day to reclaim my life. Often, my time on the couch is filled with conversations about anything but the thoughts that have consumed me for the past 18 months. My mind needs a reprieve from its own relentless loop.

As our time together came to an end today, my friend shared a quote that struck me in a way it hadn’t before: “Trauma is not what happened to you, but rather what happened in you.” — Dr. Peter Levine. She’s said it before, but maybe I wasn’t ready to hear it until now. Today, I felt its weight.

Long before the isolation, the shattered ankle, and those endless nights trapped in an RV, I carried demons within me. They’ve been with me for as long as I can remember. Hope didn’t just inspire me to fight them; she gave me the courage to stand up to them. I just didn’t realize it at the time. Back then, I was so consumed with making it back to her, believing that reunion would be my salvation. In that RV, there was no opening the door and stepping outside, no escape from the confines of my mind. I clung to Hope so tightly that she became my shield, protecting me from myself.

But I’ve come to understand something crucial: the true battle wasn’t with isolation or heartbreak—it was with me. I was the one holding myself back, the one I needed to face all along. For years, I’ve been running from that truth, running from myself. Now, at Day 125, I’m learning that healing requires not just courage, but the willingness to confront the shadows within.

To anyone reading this, I hope you remember: the walls that confine us aren’t always made of concrete. Sometimes, they’re built from memories, fears, and what-ifs. And sometimes, the hardest step is recognizing that the way out begins with facing the person in the mirror.

One Step. One Punch. One Round. 🌹

— Your Fellow Traveler