Nightmares are real

Things happen some good and some bad, and at times you have no one to turn to. So at that point you have one of two choices give in to the cold embrace of depression or just deal. When I say “just deal” I mean to make a mental chest like that of pirate chest except for memories and experiences that you don’t touch or speak of ever, with a lock on it and cram it in there, then lock it up with chains and leave it there. As life goes on you will pay many visits to the chest,  I have perfected the art of cracking it open ever so slightly and cramming the nightmares of my life into it. This method isn’t without it’s drawbacks, because I can’t acknowledge and talk about and address these things doesn’t mean it didn’t happen and it doesn’t mean I have forgotten. When I am alone and I have nothing to do, the chest beckons me towards it. The thought of opening this chest frightens me,  so I must keep myself busy, video games, movies drawing anything that I can get lost in. However a day comes when you watch the very nightmare you run and hide from, ravish another. Your helpless, you watch as all those feelings of loneliness and violation and anger rush back to you. Don’t cry,  crying is for the weak,  this is how you were raised, don’t speak unless you want to shame your family and bring to light all their terrible decisions and things they let happen to you. The whole family knows, yet we smile and joke as if nothing happens. The whole family knows, yet one of the primary offenders remains protected by my aunt. If only they knew the things you struggle with daily, if they would care. In regards to the new nightmare, I am speechless as to what to do. I have no advice to offer, no wisdom no knowledge. Time doesn’t dull the pain or take away the shame.  I pray all the time,  more for my sanity and survival and with the hope that I can forgive. Sorry little one, that I cannot help. It falls to our parents to protect us a job they fail at time and time again. I can’t take away the pain and undo the hurt but hopefully you heal, unlike me. In life I have learned some cuts are too deep to heal, I constantly bleed in the most unexpected of ways. Some people shouldn’t have kids, it’s a responsibility not everyone is ready for. I am 26 years old and this is the closest I can get to talking about it. I keep telling myself it’s life, and life isn’t fair, it isn’t kind, it’s cold and it just happens to you. It is what it is. As terrible as mine was, the thing that gets me is someone has had it worse. I cannot imagine a life worse than mine, to know there are all kinds of abuse and have suffered multiple kinds for years; people will say they are sorry, they will try and comfort you but no one will ever understand. My heart goes out to others like me, and those whose pain I couldn’t fathom. One day hopefully we will all be alright.


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