Home is me , the real me. The me I was not allowed to be. Because I was sexually and physically abused as a child , a small child. I was alone with that truth, it belonged to me and me alone . I had to bear it and carry it internally for a long time , years, before it was safe for me to feel it and own it, and in doing so come home to my real self. Rape, sexual abuse and physical abuse so horrifying, so terrifying , annihilating to my being . Crushing . No one safe to tell , not allowed to tell anyway, threatened with death and promises of no one will believe you. Alone , totally alone with my truth , the truth of my body , my mind and my soul.
So, what do you do as a small child with such a truth ? How do you continue to live ? Separation. I separated from my truth and so my real self in order to carry on living. I literally could not live with myself and this made me very angry , unhappy and destructive. But my truth loved me even though I couldn’t embrace it in my consciousness. It created different parts of me , hidden away in my mind , that kept each secret , each memory every time I was violated and hurt. My truth was kind and protected me this way , it was a part of my mind , and my mind a part of it , entwined , waiting patiently . But it did not wait quietly. Oh no . It was way too powerful for that, it was integrity itself. It spoke unconsciously through me for years. Through my mind and my body , and it told a story of physical and mental illness with various labels, of addiction to drugs and booze and danger and violence in relationships . It kept going , pushing on the door of consciousness to get out. It was desperate and despairing at times . It was wild and raging because it was locked away inside of me trying with all it’s might to get free. This was trauma, the trauma of child abuse and it was loud . I nearly died in the end before my truth could be set free, I am fortunate to have made it through.
Did any of the professionals who treated me before I was able to speak out about the abuse ask me if I had been abused as a kid? No . Despite the fact of how I was living my life , how destructive and self sabotaging and chaotic it was , no one thought to ask has this person been abused. Is it easier to see madness, instead of pain and sadness ? And to me now it was so , so obvious I was acting out , remembering the truth through other means because I could not meet with it, really feel and tell it with a voice. My journey in healing has been my journey, all meant to be, but the fact I was never asked that question amazes me. The trauma of child abuse talked through me, in so many ways before it made it’s way out to my consciousness , my voice and then into the world. Once out in the world , now that I was united with my truth and embracing it , no matter how painful, it became another issue to get it heard and believed. And that’s the discussion of other posts.
But for now I take heart. When the truth of my sexual and physical abuse became mine finally , when it no longer had to separate from me , I was free to deal with it all in a loving way . It had come home , it was mine , my story and I embraced it. I embraced it with all the love I could give to the child I had once been , the child who in the first place had found a way to adapt and separate from herself. Painful to feel sure, but now I could be free and loving with my pain and no longer destructive. Because having to hide the truth of your abuse to suit your abusers is not loving to yourself. It is a prison made by them to destroy your real self , your self determination , and your consciousness itself. Home is all the pain and all the love . Home is complex and peaceful all at the same time. Home is integration , safety and love. Home is nature . Home is me. Home is real.The path back to home is paved with the truth of sexual, physical and emotional abuse. I celebrate that truth and I welcomed it home, in return I was given myself and all the parts I am. I will continue to love, explore and see what grows.