Just in case...

Triggers are like little psychic explosions that crash through avoidance and bring the dissociated, avoided trauma suddenly, unexpectedly, back into consciousness. The persistent sense of heartbreak and gut-wrench greet me like old friends, the physical sensations become intolerable and it makes me want to do anything to make those feelings disappear. I try to maintain a sense of normality until I no longer can. That, my friends, is called surviving. Not healing. I know I will never become whole again. But that means that if I make it to tomorrow, I am a survivor. 

Down we go...

Oh, father, tell me,

do we get what we deserve?

You let your feet run wild,

time has come as we all fall, 

do you dare to look him right in the eyes?

In a strange, strange place...

I am not those words. I am not the shouts and names. I'm not the awful things spat at me like flavorless gum. I am not the punches or the bruises they cause. I am not the blood running from my nose. I am not under their control. I am not theirs. Inside me is always a part that no one can touch. I am me. I am my own, and inside me is the universe. I can be whatever I want. I can be anyone. I don't have to be afraid. I can let go of that pain. And when it comes reeling back, as the world tries to bully me again, I don't have to revert back to that scared little boy. I can be strong and react differently. I owe that to myself. I deserve to not be scared anymore.