I worried this might happen.... I'm see old patterns emerge... So even when pieced, maybe not perfectly, DBing continues to be a necessity. One problem. I don't feel as patient. I just can't be a doormat any more. Too much has happened and I grew back into someone I used to know years ago... and I just can't lay down and let myself be stepped on anymore.
I see the cracks and flaws. Sometimes it feels so disappointing. But I always hold on. That's just me.
There is no arriving, ever. It is all a continual becoming.
