My Language to Yours

Saturday, October 27, 2018

Painful Haze

TRIGGER WARNING: This post revolves around the emotional and mental effects caused by sexual trauma.

The blurry images, the muffled sounds, the squealin' and squirmin', a paralysis. Flashes of this tormentin' my mind. Plaguin' me all this time. Uncertain memories. Where's the truth behind the dark walls, under the sheet? And, what's that ray of light peekin' through the door from outside, in the real world, away from this nightmarish realm where there's a thin veil between what's present and yet oh so distant?

It's odd to have these memories come and go, never allowin' a name or a face to come with them. But, they're what's deep inside me, a slideshow I've never wanted to watch, blockin' it as best I can, though they sometimes demand to be played.

I recall the boy peepin' into the daycare bathroom, tryin' to touch what's so precious I hadn't the knowledge at such an age..but I knew it was wrong. I remember the li'l girl who thought it'd be funny to pull the nappy off her brother to show me his difference. I'll never forget the feelin' from the one who wanted me to experience a tingle. And, the mysterious one who came to me in my sleep or the boy wantin' his "feel" in the dark corner of what should've been the most sacred place. I'll never shake the chills from the  bastard who tried to lay claim to my innocence, convincin' me of a "love" in the name of God, yet hidin' under the guise of a spiritual cloak that wrapped him in darkness. I don't wanna remember the disgust that drenched an old flame.

I can't keep this hazy story hidden any longer. In this day and age, there're too many daymares comin' to light, bein' shed into our nations heart, shatterin' communities, strikin' egos down, tearin' the strength of women into fragile states of disgust that hit them in the face. And, we mustn't forget the boys of men that tarnish their spirit.

What's there to do? How do we still our minds, guard our hearts from the damages wreakin' havoc from within? When will we find solace, a peace of mind that brings us to freedom?

I's different for all of us, yeah? My heart aches for us. It longs to know there's a better place of rest for our wrecked bodies, our twisted emotions, the mental dragons that creep up ever so often and play tricks.

I've no answers for the rest of you, except that I do know we've been given a strength to overcome this craziness that feeds our fears.
There's a pure water waitin' for us to quench the fire. Is the fire bright enough to burn this pain into ashes, the light in the fire able to guide us to a place of rest for our weary hearts? These years of torment are escapable. We can grow under the light, bloom despite the floods. The night will clear for us to finally see the stars, and the tide will wash away and cleanse our wounds.


Keep goin'. Ignore the ghosts. Run on 'til they stay behind you. Find your purpose..that which beats to pieces those bullies in your brain. You aren't damaged goods. You're a masterpiece of creation, every stroke tellin' your life story, 'til you're a glorious reflection of what love truly is.

You can bare and beat this.

Click here for a resource that may help you if you've been assaulted or are a family member of someone who has.

Here's a song for ya by the Indigo Girls.

Also, if you're of the foolish nature to have breached another's flesh, you best reckon ya better seek forgiveness with the One who holds your soul in His hands.

*In no way am I responsible of any irresponsible use of this information that could lead to any decision to do unlike what this post represents, which is the opposite of destructiveness to oneself or others.

Copyright October 27, 2018 by C.L. Chapps

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