Fear. Such a small word but it carries so much power. It can be the difference between taking a chance and making a change or staying in the same ritualistic pattern your entire life. Fear has held me in its arms since I was a small child. Don’t speak. Don’t cry. Be silent and just let it happen. Fear. Fear kept me from calling out to my brother not even ten feet away. Fear kept me from telling my grandparents that I didn’t want to spend the night at my friend’s house. Fear kept me from telling my parents. Fear. It can be such an ugly thing. Fear kept me silent even after the man who’d made me afraid was in prison. Fear for those who I loved. Fear for not being believed. Fear of what had happened to be voiced out. Fear that it would become more real. Fear still holds me in its arms some nights. It rocks my trembling body and whispers terrors into my ears, still. Still, after all these years I have so much fear.
Anger. Soul consuming hot rage burns through my veins. Anger so strong that sometimes I am incapable of thinking straight. I am so angry that I let fear hold me at my throat and keep me from speaking up back when it originally happened. Anger that I couldn’t protect myself. Anger that I kept letting it happen. Anger that I kept going back. I am angry at myself. I used my anger as a weapon. I used my anger as an anchor. I used my anger until I couldn’t feel anything else. I’d beat concrete till the skin at my knuckles was torn and bloody. I’d hit something until I could no longer feel. I’d run until my legs couldn’t carry me anymore.
Numb. Numb is a weird word just like it’s a weird feeling. I don’t feel numb as much anymore. I don’t move through life like a ghost barely there…barely participating. I used to cut just to feel something, to release the pain it was an easy way to cope. I’d drink and do drugs, things that made me feel different. It was like I was a different person. It made life easier to deal with, I could be that fun, carefree girl again and I liked being able to feel like that. As soon as they’d wear off I’d be numb again. I’ve found different ways to cope now. I have been able to manage my numb days for the past two and a half maybe more years without excessively drinking or doing any drugs.
Lost. The little girl in me is still searching blindly through the dark for an escape. She’s still trapped in that school playing hide and seek, knowing he will find her that it won’t take long. She’s still breathing in the stale smell of school books, damp paper and dust. SHE’S STILL THERE. She’s still running through the halls, hiding in closets, cabinets and classrooms. She’s still holding her breath. I still haven’t found her, she still hasn’t found freedom.
I just want to find her. Wrap my arms tightly around her and tell her that it’s going to be okay. That we’re going to be okay. I want to tell her that it wasn’t her fault. I want to tell her that I love her and ask her to forgive me for doing what I did to survive. I made a mess of our life. I’m ashamed of some of things I’ve done. I hurt our mother. I hurt our father. I hurt our brothers. I hurt us. I hurt other people. I hurt her. I abandoned her, for all these things I am deeply sorry and hopefully one day will find forgiveness.
About the Creator
Roxy Wolf
Hello! My pen-name for this is Roxy Wolf. Not using my real name due to personal reasons. One day that may change. This is part of my journey to healing & learning to use my voice. I hope this helps others know they're not alone.
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