warnings for childhood sexual assault and harassment, childhood abuse and general sexual themes from a young age. take caution when reading.
the grief doesn't go away.
the grief doesn't shrink.
the grief stays.
and we grow.
the flowers in a crack of pavement, nature finding a way to persist even when humanity covers up the natural world with evolution.
the grief sits like a wolf watching a flock of sheep
waiting for things to feel okay so it can strike
it reinforces that pit in your stomach, the hand clawing out of your throat;
the thorns growing out of spots only he's ever touched as they sting.
what if you're wrong? what if you're misremembering?
what if things weren't as bad as you keep stewing on them being?
no.
i know the scars that attach the nerve endings from my brain to my heart to my flesh.
i know how they ache and cry out when i sleep,
when i trust,
when i dream.
i know it was another wednesday for him,
another thursday for her,
another lesson in "good parenting" for them.
the big four, so to speak.
they're like a mace on a chain, messing up the core memories i cling on to as they swing around my mind.
there's others of course, but i think of them as the major events.
they didn't change anything, really
i still trust wholeheartedly
i still see the best in everything and everyone
i still get hurt when my trauma teaches me nothing.
but i'm tired of not talking about the details.
i'm tired of sitting here every night, fearful of your reaction to the bombs i haven't authorized to drop yet.
i don't talk about these, not even with my mental health professionals that have come and gone in my life.
these are my burdens to bear, but i can't do it alone anymore.
there's no reason to do it alone now, rather.
so let's talk.
chronological order.
my heart's already racing and i can feel that hand trying to come through my throat like an oath to silence my history.
okay. let's do this.
deep breath.
the first one is one of my earliest memories, i don't remember how young i was. my parents weren't super involved in my life, i was the problem child out of the (at the time) three of us. for how much they tried to have kids they really only wanted the perfect child.
i was autistic and had adhd, and was a "nightmare child"
i screamed and got overwhelmed and preferred to play with animal toys over other kids
i would have a melt down when my stuffed animals went missing, they used to threaten to make them vanish if i kept that behavior up.
