Kierkegaard, PTSD, and Reclaiming My Self

…why bother remembering a past that cannot be made into a present?

Soren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling

I don’t know who I am right now.

Reading Kierkegaard probably hasn’t helped. 

. . .

It’s easy to romanticize the past, let yourself be defined by the past, let the past dictate your path in life.

For so long, that’s all I’ve done. I’ve let myself be defined by what was done to me, by what other people told me I am… was (is there a difference?)And I don’t know how to step out of that–how to separate myself from the trauma, the PTSD, the depression, the anxiety. Outside of those, who am I?

Who am I?

That’s a question I’ve been asking a lot of people lately. My friends, my pastors, my therapist, even my dog have all been on the receiving end of my identity crises. (Yes, there’ve been more than one.) I’m trying to heal, to move forward, to move through, and the only way to do that is to face the monster head on, to weather the storm, to stand your ground in the fire, let it burn you, and then rise from the ashes–stronger than you were before. Than was before.

I feel so lost. I’m terrified of the future because I don’t know who I am right now. 

I don’t know who I am right now, but I know who I want to be. Because I know who I once was.

I am laughter. It echoes down the hall as we discuss how our other coworker cannot win our fantasy league. It reverberates off the walls as I make fun of myself for being how I am.

I am a fighter, a survivor, delivered, redeemed.

I am healing and recovering and rewriting my definition, no longer letting things that aren’t personality traits define me. I have depression and anxiety and PTSD, but I am not those things. I cannot be those things because they’re not adjectives.

You cannot be what aren’t.

I am my father’s daughter, an adopted sister, a child of the King. Beloved, chosen, called, loved.

I am not defined by my past or holding on to it any longer, but I’m using it to make a difference in other’s lives.

I am present. I’m here, fully engaged, feeling the feelings as they come, surviving the moments by using what I have.

I am loud and I’m quiet, and my emotions don’t always fit the situation. Sometimes I overreact or under react, but I’m working on that, too.

I’m a learner and a questioner, a writer and a leader. And sometimes I don’t know how to be everything that I want to be.

I don’t know where the path I’ve been on is taking me, but life is understood backwards and lived forwards.

And there are problems in life I can’t solve: like why do I try to die when I so badly want to live?

Why does healing have to be so hard?

I am fearful of the future because I can’t control it.

I am living for the future when for so long I wasn’t.

I am doing what I can because I am.

I am. I don’t know who I am, but it’s as simple as this: I be. I is. I am.

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