I couldn’t when I was younger. I can now.\u00a0\u00a0Way back I wondered where the “others” were and what their secrets, struggles and stories were. Over the years I’ve thought and said, “How come so many survivors and so much silence?” <\/span><\/h3>\nSo,\u00a0here is a piece written by a silenced young woman decades ago\u00a0who doesn’t have all the peace and all the answers at middle age but\u00a0who is still here and finding and forging a way.<\/p>\n
Some things have changed, in the world, for women, for survivors and some things have not.<\/p>\n
Some parts of my life have changed too and\u00a0some – not so much.<\/p>\n
But I’m still very much that young woman I once was and ached and worked and am grateful to have become. Plus\u00a0 –\u00a0puppies.<\/p>\n
Safety<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\nSafety is the blanket that fell off the bed while I was sleeping. I\u2019m cold but too disoriented to find it. Safety is the primer I don\u2019t know how to apply. I paint myself over and look just like others, but under the surface, I feel so weathered. One more rough winter could rot my bones.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nIt\u2019s like I\u2019m waiting for someone to invite me to my own life. I can\u2019t make myself feel at home in myself. I want to be able to accept all of my emotions but I\u2019m still threatened by them. I want to feel self-possessed, self-confident and at ease. I have a good life but how can I make myself feel good about it? I\u2019m a good person but how can I make myself feel good?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nWhat if a relentless series of feelings, symptoms, nightmares makes it difficult (if not impossible) for me to work, be happy, have good people in my life? Will bad times, like bombs, blow up my life as I know it? If I face another loss, am the victim of horrible circumstances, get overwhelmed by my past will I lose everything? Are good times just time between bad times? I don\u2019t believe it and yet I fear it.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nCan PTSD be cured? Or do I just learn to live with it? Will my past always make me feel uncertain inside and distrusting of the outside?<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/h3>\nAnyone can be broken by tragic circumstances, great loss, deep pain. I\u2019m no different. But what separates me from others is how acutely aware of human fragility I am. I don\u2019t bound out of my house in the morning, ready to take on the world. I look over my shoulder too long. I watch my back too often. I\u2019m suspicious far more than I should be. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\nI spent too much time bracing myself for another blow. And I lose valuable time. Little by little I lose a little bit of the richness and wonder that is my life.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nI know life can be brutal. And this deep knowing breeds doubt. Self-doubt. I wonder if I should have children. Is it right for me to be a mother, to have someone who will be totally dependent on me when I can\u2019t say that no matter what I can be totally dependable? If I have a child I want to be able to convince them that they belong to the world, are loved by the world, are safe in the world. I want them to feel free to be who they are in this world. But how can I convey these things when I don\u2019t feel them?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
Photo credit: Margaret Bellafiore<\/p><\/div>\n
I want to feel that the world loves me, has been waiting for someone exactly like me and that it\u2019s fine for me to be who I am, as I am, not who I might or should have been had my first two decades been different. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\nCan the world be that loving, inviting, accepting? Can I be that loving, inviting, self-accepting?<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/h3>\nI want my soul to rest under a blanket of serenity. I want my foundation to house an all-season sense of safety.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nNote:<\/strong><\/em> I am so grateful life is not constant crisis though am also humbled by knowing times of crisis return. Becoming a mother is a choice I have never regretted and am so grateful fear did not prevent. Life is brutal but it can also be blissful, creative and loving. People can and do injure and disappoint but also nourish and astound.\u00a0 Despite fear and anxiety, near constant in my twenties, passions and abilities developed, habits and hobbies too and it can be easy to forget the ground covered, gained, dug into where so much was planted.<\/p>\nThe sky is a blanket, the earth a mattress and sometimes I still twist in the sheets and can’t sleep. But oh how often I drift into a safe and easy sleep in a small and loving home as the moonlight streams in.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Now that I could “pass” for normal or successful or messed up only in the ways everyone else is, I choose to be out and outspoken.<\/p>\n
I couldn’t when I was younger. I can now. And way back, as I’ve said before, I wondered where the “others” were and what their secrets, struggles and stories were. Over the years I’ve thought and said, “How come so many survivors and so much silence?” <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[52,45,84],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n
Early Recovery & Safety - Heal Write Now for Trauma Survivors & Adults Abused as Children<\/title>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\t\n\t\n\t\n