I thought that being dead, he would no longer haunt me. Tucked away in the corner of my mind are found over fifty hidden children. Nameless, with faces containing nothing but a mouth, they are dirty, bruised, and broken.
He now simple ashes, they are limping... crawling... carrying one another forward. In groups of two they are crossing into my conscious stream. In the light of my mind's eye I am horrified by what I see. A pupil widens and then is fixed with pain. Unresponsive, I do nothing but squeeze a single blink of disbelief.
A razor sharp child slices as I extend a forced, yet hopeful hand. As drops of blood pool, I become the injured helping the walking wounded and I am filled with doubt. I do not know how I will be able to continue this. How does a sick and injured doctor care for an even more ill and disfigured patient?
One single child reaches my feet and as she does she brushes her dirty hair aside and I see one possibility of an eye behind the matted hair. Behind a squint in the light, I see an unmistakable muddied crystal blue eye.
Mine.
Hidden from light for many years. But not from his terror. Hidden from love. Hidden from care. As I look into this eye I am freshly exposed to his ravages. I am no longer hidden but face to face, and I am flooded with his unmistakable memories.
They won't stop.
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Hello darkness my old friend,
4 months ago
27 comments:
I may say more, but for now...you CAN do this. you were made to function, and function you will. You CAN reparent yourself. I believe in you. You WILL thrive again, dear. Hold on for the ride, but one minute at a time, you can do this. Hug those insiders...with your words, time, attention, patience, and simple touch. Accept the same back from them. You CAN do this, Shattered! We believe in you! ang
((SHATTERED))
I could have written this. You're right, it doesn't stop once "he's" dead...sometimes there are parts we don't even know about that don't feel *safe* enough to even show themselves until after "he's" dead.
I believe in you. I can see your strength and I beleive in you.
~ Grace
Jennifer, I feel inadequate to respond to this, but I'm awfully glad there are others here who understand what you are experiencing.
Oh, honey, you can do it. You can love these little children and heal them. Give them all the love you wanted your parents to give you. They are not dirty or broken, your parents were the dirty and broken ones. YOU DID NOTHING WRONG. Love and hugs. xoxo
I hate those days. Keep going and hang in there. You're doing good work. And thanks for sharing.
I'm here, just want you to know. Listening.
This post bespeaks the last one. This "doomed" echo is -- well, echoing.
Poisonally speaking, I don't believe in doom.
On the other hand, I also don't believe in fate, destiny, blessings, curses, luck, fortune, soulmates, god's given gifts, or all manner of horrible, wonderful things which depend on certitude in order to exist.
You're awesome for recognizing that nothing died with him (though you're pretty awesome, anyway) but I poisonally avoid giving anything power it may or may not actually have.
In this case, I'm talking about immortality. Neither he, nor his effects, are immortal. Nothin' is. Unless, of course, you start believing they are. If you do that, then this better be a long-surviving blog, Miss, because you're gonna need it.
The bright side of that dark possibility is, doesn't look like anybody here shows signs of abandoning you, and besides -- the immortality aspect of the horror is completely within your power to bestow, whether you decide to exercise it, or not.
One way or other, the shovel is yours, waiting for the comfortable day on which you will dig for your fear a grave.
That's what I think, anyhow -- but it's not like you asked.
Cheers, Miss.
-Both
Jennifer--I still have nightmares about my father although thankfully, they have lessened a great deal over the last 10 years or so. I used to be haunted by nightmares that occurred almost every night--it was sometimes torture to go to sleep.
I confronted my father in 2005--he died about 3 weeks later. It was one of the best things I have ever done--one of the most healing things. You can still confront your tormenters, though--even after they have passed. A good friend I met in a meeting of survivors of abuse and incest told me that she wrote her stepfather a long letter (after he had passed) in which she confronted him about all the terrible things he had done to her as a child. She had a small ceremony, where she invited some very close friends and read the letter aloud to all of them--sharing her terrible burden with them. Then, she burned the letter. She had a sense of closure after that confrontation--because really, the confrontation is much more about us than them.
I used to also cut myself as a child. Sometimes, let us both pause and think about how far we have come--and not just how far we have yet to go. You have come so far, my friend.
Here's a huge ((((((((hug))))))) for you.
Melinda
Sitka has an award for you at All Gods Creatures.
Hugs, andrea
the ghosts are about to emerge; maybe that is the beginning of the beginning of the end? the ghosts are able to emerge, they no longer need to hide? You can now let them out into the light and the light will warm them and heal them.
I may be talking utter rubbish, but I am so desperately hoping that, in some small way, this may indeed be what is happening.
Hang in there, girl, my very best wishes.
Nobody can ever lead anyone else to the door into freedom, except possibly a therapist; I just want you to know, that the day will come when you can see the light.
I hope you're doing better, Jennifer.
Shattered, you have lived this nightmare over & over & over, it must be exhausting.
When I tune into you I see so much light and love. Holding onto the past and opening to the wonder that you are is an impossible feat I'm thinking. I don't have any answers, just wanted you to know that I see you without your past as peaceful, joyful. Blessings.
Jennifer, just thinking of you tonight and hoping that you are all right.
Hi there, also hoping you are dong well. ((((YOU)))))
ang
We are doing OK. She should be back around tomorrow.
-Nobody
I empathize with you and hope you can heal. I am the mom of a son with DID and it is a constant challenge for him. I am always telling him "I love ALL of you, even the angry parts."
Lindsey Petersen
http://5kidswdisabilities.wordpress.com
"Hug those insiders...with your words, time, attention, patience, and simple touch. Accept the same back from them. You CAN do this, Shattered! We believe in you! ang"
Ang, thank you. I took this to heart and actually did this for the first time. The results were amazing. :)
Grace, I'm sorry that you can identify with this post. :( Thank you for your encouragement.
Deborah, just knowing that you were here and reading is enough. Thank you...
"They are not dirty or broken, your parents were the dirty and broken ones. YOU DID NOTHING WRONG."
Annie, I think I'm finally getting this. :)
Malefic, thanks for reading and for your encouragement.
Ruth, thank you. :)
"In this case, I'm talking about immortality. Neither he, nor his effects, are immortal. Nothin' is. Unless, of course, you start believing they are."
Botheyes, thank you for pointing this out. I needed to hear this. I have always given him too much power but now, you are right, he's not immortal.
Thank God.
Melinda, I totally get what you mean about it being torture to go to sleep. It's a nightly ordeal but thankfully it is beginning to get a little better. Thank you for the pause because you are right, sometimes we do need to look at how far we have come rather than the road ahead...
Friko, not rubbish at all... because that is what happened and what is continuing to happen. :) I am hoping that this is the beginning of something better, maybe even something good.
"When I tune into you I see so much light and love. Holding onto the past and opening to the wonder that you are is an impossible feat I'm thinking. I don't have any answers, just wanted you to know that I see you without your past as peaceful, joyful. Blessings."
Maggie, thank you. This is just so encouraging to me. Peaceful and joyful would be two very welcome feelings. :)
"I empathize with you and hope you can heal. I am the mom of a son with DID and it is a constant challenge for him. I am always telling him "I love ALL of you, even the angry parts."
Lindsey, I took a look at your blog and it sounds like you are an amazing mom. :)
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