Delima

generational trauma tingz

Hey guys, I'm back with a new one. Wholeheartedly, I wanna say that eventhough Bahasa Malaysia has a special place in my heart, I feel like English is the language I can express myself and how I feel towards something.

This piece is based on generational trauma. If you do not know what it means, basically its the problems you faced growing up through seeing how your parents brought you and your siblings up and how it affected you to become who you are today. In another sense, how they perpetuate some sort of abuse or control on you were the results of how they were brought upon when they were kids.

Like, for example, Charlie has his grandparents, and they were drunkards when raising Charlie's father, and abused Charlie's dad and his siblings. Charlie's father experienced trauma and then Charlie's father didn't learn what a healthy familial relationship was. As he grows up and becomes a father himself, he thought that love meant providing them (his family) with a home and overworking himself at work and at home and berating Charlie and controlling him because he felt like his father was out of control.

Generational trauma rules us in a way. Breaking it doesn't mean the cycle won't end, it just mutates into another form.

Here is my poem for the subject.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

my own worst critic
is the voice of my own mother
financially dependent on my father
gone astray? oh i went farther
every move i make
i doubt myself
through chains of control
that parents have over me
using religion as a way
to perpetuate abuse
and take away my rights

siblings over and over again
told me to learn how to drive
they never said it out loud
but they scream for my freedom
get away get out of the house
before they entrap
and ensnare
and gaslight
big bro moved to another city
sis got a husband too quickly
my other brother lives in his own bubble
and im stuck, gotta pass some hurdles

i want my freedom
and i want support
but some parents dont come with that rapport
every night i cry myself to sleep
hoping that they'd hear how'd i weep
but they'll call me entitled and childish