PTSD had led me to believe that I am broken in some way. For years I tried to fix this, to become a whole person again.
But recently, I have begun to understand that this is the way I am.
I was shocked at first, and sought to heal myself. How could I function if I was broken?
But I cannot mend this. It is sad. I wish I could become whole again, but now I realise that I must live with a certain amount of brokenness.
I am attracted to images which portray brokenness.
When a plate shatters, I looks at the pattern in shards, and I think ‘That is like me.’
It is painful to live this way. But I am trying to come to terms with it.