I have conquered my metaphorical mountain. I kept telling myself I can do it. It was hard. It felt emotionally, spiritually and physically excruciating at times, and I did it. I asked myself, when I conquer this mountain, have a congruent past and the tools to live with PTSD, is that when I will feel content?
It's my goal to live life with my eyes open, to let go of the person I am not, to own my story, to have worked through the torture and come out with a gnarly scar, not a soft scab over an oozing past. I met that goal. Did I feel content?
I learned to reach out and ask for help when I feel so vulnerable that I can’t move left or right. To ask "will you take my hand and hold on to it until I feel steady enough to walk beside you again, unaided?" When I have done that, I ask myself, do I feel a sense of contentment?
When I accept the changes I have gone through, releasing and gently letting go of the protective barriers because they no longer serve me. To “just show up” even when I can’t remember how to be okay. To accept that sometimes I won't be okay. Knowing that I'm safe, and to trust the safety. To let the safety permeate my body, mind & spirit. Is that when I will feel content?
Am I content? Understanding that to feel a sense of contentment is as involuntary as breathing. I don't have to seek it. I don't have to be free from the symptoms of PTSD to understand that I'm enough. I was always enough, and that, not only am I okay now, I was always okay. I understand that feelings and emotions are fleeting and impermanent.
Yes, I believe, yes, most days (maybe not all 24 of those hours), but mostly, I am Content.