A time for full disclosure

I have been silent for too long.  Many, many years I’ve hung my head in shame.  I’ve tried to keep the thoughts that are screaming behind my eyes hushed because they are so loud, how can anyone not hear them?  Some days all I hear is screaming.  It’s time to give those screams form.  It’s time to use my voice.

This blog will remain completely anonymous and come with a gigantic ***TRIGGER WARNING***.  I am going to spew my truth out into the ether, to lay bare the grief I so desperately need to surrender.  I have seen some things.  I am full of horrible memories.  Due to shear age limitations, I still have more bad memories than good memories, but hopefully in another decade I will have slightly more good memories than bad.

I am not an expert on anyone’s life or situation except my own.  I only know my own truth.  I will not be debating, arguing, or trying to justify anything written here.  These are my words of healing, this is my song of grief.

My stories will be about this: I am a multiple, as in DID.  I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse.  My mother is an animal hoarder.  I grew up in a mix of poverty and lower class standards of living.  There were times we didn’t have electricity or running water.  Due to being forcibly withdrawn from HS at the beginning of my Junior year, I taught myself the last two years of HS.  I moved out at 16.  I beat statistical odds by not being a drug addict/alcoholic/teen mom/suicide.  I got married at 19, divorced at 22, and spent a year in an abusive relationship which literally almost got me killed.

Things are better now.  I am currently safer, more loved, and happier than I have ever been in my entire life. But things weren’t always that way.  And there is no such thing as “letting it go”.  You can move through it, you can process it, you can understand the different layers and complexities, but it stays with you forever.

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