#metoo

Trauma follows me wherever I go.

It likes my attention…wants me to let myself get wrapped in it’s claws…consent to it’s talons tearing through my skin…participate in the letting of my soul’s blood.

Trauma and I are inseparable.

It likes to stand so close to me that it looks as though we share the same face…and I find it necessary to peer through Trauma’s eyes to see as I filter through Trauma’s noise to hear.

Trauma loves me violently and is quick to remind me of who I really am.

Trauma turns my back for me, just as I am about to let go.

Trauma weighs down my legs with each step.

Trauma seeps into my vocal chords and plays games with words I try to say.

Trauma takes an active role in my relationships.

Trauma guides me in how not to parent.

Trauma even likes to go shopping with me.

Trauma is my everything.

I don’t know how to feel…how to act…how to think…without Trauma’s constant active memory of a past that refuses to remain buried.

I always thought I could live with Trauma forever…accept Trauma as part of me…become stronger with Trauma as my second skin…

Maybe I will, in some ways…

But, today I find a moment where Trauma can be distracted by a feeling I thought I cared about.

I sit down and write

#metoo

Trauma takes a step back in shock…

For a moment…

I am visible.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s