All these years later the abuse, it still haunts me. It lives in my body, feeding me helpings of fear, hyper-vigilance, and constant disapproval. I can’t spend a moment alone on the sofa without their reproof. I’m lazy and selfish, ungrateful and cruel. All the things they were, they dumped onto me. I’m still carrying it ‘round like a kid in foster care whose filthy hand-me-downs fill used garbage bags. I’m incredibly lonely but I can’t take a chance on you dumping more on me. I can hardly carry the crap I haul now.
If only kind words were enough. But to undo what was poured into me is like trying to program an adult to realize everything they know about their religion is a lie.
The horrors that parents or substitute parents rain down on a person destroys much of them. I know’; it happened to me. I was the unwanted child and anything and everything wrong in the family was my fault. I hate my mother and father and my family to for abusing the defenseless child I was and then not understanding their about. I lived in house where the only pictures of children displayed were of my brother and sister. You have to tell yourself that they are all wrong and you are a wonderful person.
Ya’ll talk like I haven’t been in therapy off and on for much of my adult life, and tried multiple religions and spiritual teachings, and a million other things to get my shit together. This poem is my therapy; it’s where I tell my truth.
I understand the therapy of writing… openly… Hugs to you…
Thank you!
I am so sad that you have to deal with this Trauma stored in your cells, I am glad you are openly writing about this, it allows you to heal, you are so much stronger and you are in control of your life, continue healing girl, you can make it through the dark night. We are all here to support you whenever you need us. You are not alone !
It’s a heavy load to carry. Those voices can be hard to deal with. You are different from your abusers and that fed their insecurities. The abuse was never your fault, it was theirs.
They can be. The first step is recognition. I’ve been dissociated from my physical self for so long. In counseling I’m getting back in touch with me, and understanding why I dissociate.
Dogpaddling Through Life 
I am sorry you had to go through that. You are not your past or your parents though. You are a strong, kind woman who can be whatever she wants. XO
If only kind words were enough. But to undo what was poured into me is like trying to program an adult to realize everything they know about their religion is a lie.
The horrors that parents or substitute parents rain down on a person destroys much of them. I know’; it happened to me. I was the unwanted child and anything and everything wrong in the family was my fault. I hate my mother and father and my family to for abusing the defenseless child I was and then not understanding their about. I lived in house where the only pictures of children displayed were of my brother and sister. You have to tell yourself that they are all wrong and you are a wonderful person.
Ya’ll talk like I haven’t been in therapy off and on for much of my adult life, and tried multiple religions and spiritual teachings, and a million other things to get my shit together. This poem is my therapy; it’s where I tell my truth.
I understand the therapy of writing… openly… Hugs to you…
Thank you!
I am so sad that you have to deal with this Trauma stored in your cells, I am glad you are openly writing about this, it allows you to heal, you are so much stronger and you are in control of your life, continue healing girl, you can make it through the dark night. We are all here to support you whenever you need us. You are not alone !
Thank you. It does feel freeing to put it into words.
It’s a heavy load to carry. Those voices can be hard to deal with. You are different from your abusers and that fed their insecurities. The abuse was never your fault, it was theirs.
They can be. The first step is recognition. I’ve been dissociated from my physical self for so long. In counseling I’m getting back in touch with me, and understanding why I dissociate.
Wow. That is so powerful. Hang in there.