I sure don’t have the answers, but I can’t be the only one out here who feels the way I do. Where is everyone? Am I the only one who has had enough of suffering in silence? I’m tired of being the victim, but I don’t have enough confidence to scream my hurt to the heavens, so I use this medium. I’m scared most of the time—this will come back to haunt me—even trying to reach out. I’ve spent many years suppressing the anguish of being molested by my stepfather as a young child and into my early teens. I’ve been denying it ever existed, much less had an effect on my everyday life. It does. It does. It does! I’m trying to find healing. I’d hoped to find it with the support of others who know what it’s like to have their innocence stolen. So far, I feel more alone than when I started. Is anyone out there?
I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself that I never even knew. There’s the me I could’ve been if only this hadn’t happened, and there’s the person I am, the shriveled twin of that other person. How I mourn for the loss of the bright, happy person I see just beyond the glass in the mirror. I’m a grown woman with a husband and children of my own. I manage my life the best that I’m able. Sometimes that’s something I’m proud of, sometimes it’s not so good. I have black days where nothing good can touch me. I don’t know how to let myself go enough to have fun or even be happy without feeling that trickle down the back of my neck that says I have to hold back in case something bad happens. If I do manage to forget temporarily, my dreams make sure everything’s vividly back into place. I want so much to block it out, but I wasn’t blessed with that talent as others are.
I’m drowning. I can cope most of the time but there are times that this existence just doesn’t feel like life. I want to not hurt anymore! I want to feel normal and protected from my demons. Sometimes it helps to talk to people who have walked in the same shoes. Maybe there is a way to help one another, even just to have a shoulder to completely dissolve on. Other times I never, never want anyone to know. It hurts so much to admit it. Sometimes I say it so baldly, so matter of fact, that it couldn’t possibly be real. These words take blurting out to an uncomfortable, unsuspecting person. They look at me blankly at first. Their mouths open slightly as if they’re willing something appropriate to come out of it. But what do you say, really, to someone who drops that kind of thing on you? All I’m trying to do is get people to understand, “Ah ha, that explains so many things. This excuses so much.” Unfortunately, it never really does. I end up feeling embarrassed and ashamed all over again. I never tell people to gain sympathy, or to use it for a reason that I’m a bitter, sometimes borderline insane little woman.
I guess I’m not sure exactly what I expect to gain from all of this soul bearing but I’m out here trying to be brave—waving my arms to the world and hoping it won’t turn a blind eye to me. So, here I am again. I’ve written two other articles. I got a couple of soul soothing comments. It helped. Is there anyone out there with a few of those answers that I’ve been looking for? Maybe I’m not making any sense. I’m probably spewing gibberish, but who knows? Maybe someone will hear me.
