I have been sat on this blog post for over a year, I had forgotten I had written it and just stumbled across it and realised it is still relevant.
These are just my musings, forgive me if its a bit rambling, I was just going to post my poem but the words poured out onto the screen.
I am so tired of the dismissal of other peoples trauma, of a growing culture of fear that is growing and growing, of survivors being told to be silent, to be shamed, for who they are, what they are or what they are not.
I have never laid bare my trauma on the internet – I allude to it, I think it is probably clear to most people on my page that I have seen some very difficult times and been in some very dark places.
I do not believe everything happens for a reason but that we can give reasons to what happens and I have chosen to take those experiences and use them to become a kinder, more empathic, more supportive person and I do not discriminate ever in where that support goes.
That does not make me weak, or false, it makes me, ME, the sum total of my experiences and never, by thought or word or deed, do I think of dismissing anyones experiences, belittling them or thinking they cannot be worse than mine, I simply don’t believe in comparative trauma dismissal and the kafka trapping, internet and social media is becoming.
It reminds me of my Catholic Convent School upbringing, in which every baby is born with original sin, until it is purified through the sullied waters of the patriarchal church.
Once I was old enough to have independent thought – I rebelled against this concept we are all born bad.
I am going to add a very clear disclaimer here that this blog is about the hundreds and hundreds of blog posts and twitter feeds and news reports and facebook feeds I have read about this and not about any one thing. Its a cumulative effect of silencing I find.
There has always been a desire to keep women down, in their place, in their corner and I for one have earned my right not to be put there.
I wrote this poem in the most difficult time of my life – it reminds me how far I have come, how I clawed my way back and how I have a duty to speak up and out.
I am so very glad I am not in that place any more, and so thankful for all the people who helped me get through. <3.
The Monster in the Dark
I bought a house, to be a safe place, where I could live my life and raise my children.
A home full of light and love and happiness, where, once the door was closed, we were safe me and mine.
I knew about monsters, that they were real and they existed, so I was cautious and careful. I monitored and I watch and I loved and I laughed.
But time came when something slipped past my guard, past my ever watchful eye and came into my home.
The monster, crept in, ousing an evil and a darkness that I did not see, invading every crook and cranny, disturbing the peace and harmony of my once safe place.
But still I did not see, for the monster made me blind.
And now I know more about monsters than I ever wished to know, that they can shape change, face change and take many forms, that they can steal your heart and your soul and leave a void that can never be filled.
The monster in my life has stolen my past, my memories, although life moves on and forward, there is a shadow that cannot be brightened, a place that cannot be filled with light.
To find peace, I have had to accept, that a part of me will now always be forever dark, there will always be a chasm that will remain empty.
So I have bought a new house, a new home, to fill with light and love and happiness once again.
And although a part of me will always yearn for the past, I know, that with love and patience and time, I can be happy once more.
My home is slowly filling with hearts and arts and crafts. With love, with light and with laughter, with dragonflies and butterflies and signs of a new start, a rebirth.
I will keep a more watchful eye and this time, in this life, in this home, no monsters will slip by.
We will be safe and at peace again, me and mine.