Early and long into my life I was defined by people around me, those with deep pain and anger and loneliness. Very deep pain.
They acted out badly, and I was so very often affected in a negative way.
These were the forces that forged me.
My life has been a battle, a battle of escape and denial and hiding and self-punishment and more hiding and pain and escape again and lonely walks and depression and suffering and pain and tears and guilt and shame and silence and suffering and rejection and submissiveness and loneliness, oh my God such loneliness.
All this and more. And they got to me so early that I couldn’t catch my breath, I couldn’t see beyond the storm, I couldn’t think. I sank below the surface, into the muck, where everything was heavy and slow-moving and murky. I didn’t know about things like clarity and lightness and safety. I didn’t know what my own voice sounded like.
Now, after struggling for most of my life to break free of the muck , I can sense myself in remarkably new ways. The ancestral weights that once held me down are gone, the atmosphere no longer rancid with the fumes of hurt, my lungs now awash in cool fresh oxygen.
Holy shit, I survived!
Fuck, I made it out!
Can this possibly be true? Is this a dream, or I am really here?
Tears of joy. Nothing left to say.