It is undeniable that this is a blog devoted to survivors of domestic violence. It’s clear that the blog targets the sexual trauma a victim battles. It’s painstakingly obvious that on this blog some hard subjects are discussed, even though I haven’t even quite scratched the surface yet.
Honestly, if you are on this blog reading this you are seeking help for yourself or someone you love. You are in the right place.
As most of you know, I’ve been on a long tedious journey of healing myself emotionally from domestic violence. I mean, this is what the blog was intended for – talking about the abuse allows the festering wounds inside to scab somewhat. Talking about it helps to put the past into perspective instead of reliving it in silence and fear.
Writing about it validates the reality.
I have been silent awhile…
There are times when a survivor simply decides to shut the book of Past and tuck it on a high shelf, just for a little while. We test ourselves to see how far we can live as “normals”. When we are ready as survivors to do this, it is a disconcerting feeling. We have lived this way of life for so long, we hardly know what to do with ourselves without it. It’s a strange mixed feeling of semi-freedom… like wearing shackles with no chains attached.
Even through the silence I was writing in my head. Beyond the silence were those prompting me to return to writing, and barely visible behind them, my goals glimmered in moon slivers on a turbulent sea.
It took me a long time to face the facts that it happened. It took me an even longer time to accept it. The truth, is that I know.. the bittersweet, is that I’m aware.. and the silence when my voice failed me outspokenly… so perhaps saying I accepted it is wishful thinking. Perhaps writing in my head was my voice to make up for what my lips cannot form.