It feels like I'm sitting in a movie theater with my back against the screen and the movie is always playing, you know the one where the children are being tortured and beaten. Every now and then pieces of the film break off, get louder, nearer and float into my vision. I cover my ears, I close my eyes but the visions won't go away.
I just have to wait...for therapy, for a different, less violent piece of film to superimpose on top of the disturbing one.
Yeah, it's that good...at times.
So many times, violations, physical, sexual, emotional...the film Never sleeps and rarely (without medication) do I.
Welcome to my life.
It is what it is.
Part of the thing that is weird...I didn't cause this. All that was done to break my body and spirit was intentionally inflicted upon me against my will.
A history of heavy violations. A man who routinely raped his daughter. A mother who despised, shunned and beat me, too. A mother who looked the other way, pretending not to see what was before her very eyes.
Her child, broken, bleeding...and she turns and walks away thinking her dirty hands are clean. Falsely telling all who would hear, how magnificent it was to have so many children...her greatest pride, her joy...as she quietly shut the door and never acknowledged or spoke of it...till over 35 years later. For then she could admit she saw, she knew and she protected...all the other children...but me.
Thank you mother, I spit in her face.
I turn.
I walk away.
It's just me....it's just me as it always has been.
No one really wants the truth...unless it's covered in froth and icing.
If the truth be ugly, do like my mother, turn away, pretend you can't hear or see, and walk out. I've been disbelieved long enough.
I believe.
I know.
I was there.
It happened...and I wonder if I will ever be in one piece......
