Perfect Storm

36- Tawny

Four months have gone by since my world was shattered and betrayed by the two closest people in my life, Ian and Skye, and my heart left utterly broken.

I know I ran away, doing as I always do, but after the wind got knocked out of me and I was shocked to the core, I felt it was something I needed to do. I also knew I had to act fast before I did something I'd never get a chance of regretting. So, I immediately checked myself into a woman's facility—a treatment center for healing—a place treating depression, anxiety, PTSD, and other challenges.

Checking myself in to get the help I needed was the best thing I ever did. And it was just the place I needed to get the rest and rejuvenation to start getting my life back on track. It was also to help me find the reason and purpose to be here.

The last thing I wanted or needed to do was head further down the path to darkness.

I cried. A lot.

I slept. A lot.

I prayed. A lot.

I painted. Daily.

And I thought about Ian. All the time. Even though I hated him, I missed him terribly. What Ian did was something I never imagined he'd do to me. And everything he promised not to do, he did. And of all people with Skye? My best friend! The same friend I confided in since we were eleven/twelve years old?

How could he?

How could she?

I also couldn't eat much and had lost some weight—weight I couldn't afford to lose; however, after a month and a half of my stay in the treatment center. Talking with the therapists and learning how to deal with issues when they arrive. I started eating again and regaining some of the lost weight.

I had to eat; otherwise, another vital part of my life would be gone as well.

After teaching my heart to accept what cannot be changed and receiving the support and treatment I needed, I left the woman's treatment center. Then I took a trip down to my mother's hometown of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, to visit with family I hadn't seen in years.

One of the reasons I chose to go to Brazil was something my mother always said. She would tell me never to forget my roots because if I remember where those are, it'll keep them strong and help me stay strong.

And that's exactly what I knew I needed to do from that day on—be strong and stay strong.

I spent about a month in Rio, visiting beaches, landmarks, learning about the city where my mother was born and raised, and learning more about my heritage. I even picked up more of the Portuguese language my mother had started teaching me when I was a child—something I hadn't used since before her death.

It was refreshing to spend time with my mother's side of the family, getting to know them and learning more about me. It was also a much-needed escape to continue my recovery, restoring my inner well-being and sanity.

During my last few days in Brazil, I sat in front of the ocean by myself and in silence. All while listening to the waves speaking to me and enjoying what nature's effortless valuables bring. In those days, I was able to find more peace within myself and appreciate what life offers. After appreciating every breath and heartbeat my body has allowed me to enjoy, I knew it was time to go home and continue recovering from everything I went hiding from.

So, I said my goodbyes and flew back to Minnesota.

Instead of going home, which I wasn't exactly sure where to call home quite yet, I visited every place that I could remember my parents taking me—taking about a month to accomplish. During those stops, I realized more that life changes every day. It also made me understand that it will never be the same as the day, weeks, months, or years before today. So I told myself to continue being strong, how it was time to let go of all the grudges I've been keeping inside me, and that there's always hope that tomorrow will bring new beginnings.