Writing out trauma comes with hurdles. Sometimes I plow through.
Sometimes I avoid. I avoid the smells, sounds and feelings of the memory. There is hurt in there. There’s a scared little girl in there. She doesn’t want to have to feel it, but we do. To bring our story to life, we gotta feel it.
We jumped a hurdle tonight, plowing through a memory which triggered abandonment and shunning. This memory triggered the aftermath of sexual abuse, and the compliance holding its hand.
I wrote it. I felt it. I handled it. I tackled it and re-visited this space, remotely viewing from outside, writing from inside, a duality of conquering memories.