Reason 22

As soon as I graduated High school, I packed my shit and moved in with my Aunt. Partly, because she was lonely after losing her husband. Partly, because turning eighteen in my parent's house could have been dangerous. As far as my parents knew it was because she lived close to the community college I was attending.

My aunt Julie looks like the wildest of her sisters, with her tattoos and rockabilly flare but if you asked her, my mom was the wild one.

In my teen years, I gravitated to her and my uncle Chris for many reasons. My uncle was the emotional half of my dad. The one who encouraged me to dye my hair, rip my jeans and pierce my lip. Do whatever made me happy and kept me creative. My aunt supported these values and when I moved in she let me paint my room a vibrant blue and arrange the furniture in weird ways. My room did not fit with the retro style of the rest of her house but she did not complain. Her house is like stepping into the 1970's. Her and my uncle were the only ones that ever looked like they belonged in the house. The T.V. is always on for background noise, most days the house is full of laughter, dancing, and games. My aunt has all these stories and tells them so vividly, I can live them. Even if they are before my time.

When my uncle died, I felt like I lost her, most of her; the vivid parts. I was just a sixteen-year-old kid, all I could do was cry beside her if I was even able to see her at all.

When I moved in, I was having night terrors. I think she still was too. I would wake from mine terrified, crawl into her bed crying. Sometimes she was crying too. We would safely fall back to sleep together. Together we were strong. We could sit with whatever terrible things we were feeling and just feel them. We rarely used words because our tears said it all. I think there were days that she wanted to die but she never said so. Every day she chose to live. Every day she fought to be happy. It took years for her colors to come back; a slow restoration.

One day she was ready to be on her own again. I ready for something new. She was first person to understand me leaving for Australia. I remember crying in the dining room, feeling guilty (for leaving everyone), afraid (of starting over somewhere foreign), and anxious (I was making the biggest mistake of my life). She told me I could only do what was right for me, no one else mattered; my family and good friends would be there when I got back. Uncle Chris would have told me to go, to do me, follow my dreams. Hearing those things did not make the feelings go away but it made it easier to say "see ya later, Cali."

There is something special about the way that they encouraged me to be nothing but myself, even if I failed. Life can be scary and downright difficult but there is always someone experiencing hardships long side of you. Through my aunt, I learned how to sit with my feelings and walk fearfully but determined into life. I watched her chose life and happiness every day, regardless of hurting and know that is the only way to live. Choose life. Choose happiness. Cut out, leave behind all the rest.

This is why I keep living. Because I am loved. Because I love you too much to let you live a life without me.

#bodyimage #PTSD #Hope #love #Love #Keepliving #Life