The only thing I know how to write is my own experience. I can make assumptions about yours and I might be right 9 out of 10 times, but when I write my truth, that is where the magic happens.
I am a survivor. A survivor of neglect and abuse and far too much growing up before my time with a hefty dollop of family denial on top just to make sure nobody really knew what was going on. The unique truth of my upbringing has shaped who I am. It has taken a long time (in the midst of the shaping process) to love this - Who I am - in the inside, outside, and upside down.
I may sound a bit too glib for your liking - that's okay. As a survivor, I feel I have earned the right to tell my story any way I want. Because in the aftermath of my growing up, the story is what I was left with, and what I have fought for, and I am proud of it. It's mine.
The fight for real life (and living) is hard, costly work for every single person, no matter the story. It is the daily routine of reminding yourself of your worth and potential, outside of what you were taught by others/experience or intuited in your formative years. It sometimes involves taking a break from self-work, just to rest the fuck up to ready yourself for the next self-work that will always be coming your way. It can mean dropping out for a bit to recover that tender self you have so diligently been working on, or reconnecting so you don't loose the fragile thread that connects you to those that care for you, in your worst and best.
It looks like...
Rest (naps, breaks)
Breathing in and out
Listening to your needs (because you are the best equipped to meet those needs)
Therapy with someone that truly gets you and will speak truth into you
Boundaries (those little inner lines that we put up to create safety for ourselves and others)
Doing what we love, when we can and as much as we can