I have a right to tell my story whoever gets embarrassed that is not my business. Noone has acknowledged my pain through my experience. My healing does not begin nor will it come to it’s completion until I tell my story.
I’m going to speak my truth and stay in my truth. With love and compassion and most of love myself. In order I can give love that’s appropriate to whom it is deserving of it.
I want to liberate myself, maybe by me telling my story. Someone could find the strength to be liberated as well. I haven’t healed, not by a long shot. The bandage kept being pulled back. That’s because I have allowed it. When you know better, you do better. Today at the 38 years old, I feel like I’m beginning to understand who I am.
I have been in Talk Therapy for years and have been properly diagnosed a few years ago by my psychiatrist. Which made a world of a different to be finally understand your behavior.
I know a lot women, young girls, young men and men could relate to this. It’s a very difficult and emotional thing to do. So I will do my best.
@ How does a grown man get satisfaction from touching a flat chested girl chest!
@ what does a grown man feel putting his erect penis in a little girl’s face and mouth!
@ what happens to this little girl protectors? Where were they?!
@ why anyone didn’t protect her? She was helpless and innocent.
@ why her sanctuary was her, bondage of slavery?
@ when she thought she was rescued by her hero whom she barely knew it was a continuation.. her mother’s pattern of ….what she probably learned.
All my childhood, teenage years of life, was all a reflection of .:: abuse, in every sense of the word: sexually, physically, verbally, emotionally, psychologically.
All from the people that brought into this world, my so call support system, my so call protectors. The individuals that molested me, are still friends of my family. Even when I tried to say something about it. No one, aknowledged me.
That hurts. My wound opened even wider as an adult.
It hurts when you are told, none of those people has nothing to do with the way your life is now and continually defending them. My abuse went on for years. That, I learned love to be. It feels like it just happened yesterday.
That’s a short version of a long life battle. Continuous fight through trauma and pain, grief all of the above in a nutshell.
This is part of My Mental Memoirs..
I’m open for comments, open uncomfortable discussion, or questions.
#May-Mental health month