Coming Out of the Dark

 I’ve been struggling with posting. Struggling to let the truth out or talk about my actual feelings of late. I’ve been worried of the controversy it may cause or the feelings that may be hurt but that’s not fair. It’s not fair to me nor is it fair to others who may read and relate to my posts. My posts are never bashes against others, but simply the stories I call life. I’m sorry I’ve disassociated and disappeared for so long. It was never my goal and I hope to change that. 

Every year, I’ve renewed my site. I’ve paid to keep it and maintain it. I think it’s because my inner conscience knew I would one day come back to it and connect with myself again. You see I’ve been hurting for quite some time and instead of facing it or dealing with the pain then moving on, I’ve just numbed it out. I’ve distracted myself with meaningless things and often disassociated from life, locking my feelings into a box and throwing the key into the darkness with hopes to never need it.

I’m trying to change that though so please be patient. I’ve been attending therapy and I’ve been breaking into that box, dealing with each issue as I can and it’s opened my eyes to a lot. A lot of things I’ve been through, may not be solo things, but rather something someone else may have also gone through. Maybe not exact, but enough that they don’t feel alone when reading my posts. 

I can’t hide anymore. I can’t block out my pain. I can’t bury my story. It’s time for me to use it to my advantage and change the narrative even further. I’ve never been a victim but i have easily become a shadow, hiding behind the past. I want to work on that. I want to just be me and be open more. Even if it is just one person, touching another’s life in a positive way has always been my goal. I leave smiles on faces and footprints on hearts, or so I say…  Could it be true? Let’s find out. 

Write your story

 Write your story. Write my story? Where does one even begin? As a baby? Maybe my teenage years since they were the hardest? Or should I write about my young adult life and how i navigated through it? There is just too much to write and not enough time, nor space for all of it. Not without an entire book and lets's be honest I am not even good at managing my blog, let alone sit and write out an entire biography. So here is what I can give you, in the raw.

   I watched a movie today. Called Trapped: The Alex Cooper Story that i stumbled across on Hulu. It is about how she comes out as a gay person at 15 and is sent to a conversion therapy home by both her Mormon parents and grandparents. At this home she is subjected to lashings with the belt, punches, and made to stand all day at a wall holding nothing but a backpack filled with rocks. Not small rocks, but big enough and heavy enough rocks to leave red marks and bruises on both of Alex's shoulders. 

   I couldn't help but feel triggered. Not by her coming out as gay and sent to a conversion therapy camp,( I never officially came out to my parents because by the time I accepted who I was, I had already stopped talking to them) but by how she was treated. It reminded me of the place labeled as my childhood home. I can tell you so many stories about my family that would give you nightmares, but I wont go into that detail. Not yet. 

   See my family was a good ole' southern baptist family who believes stricltly in the old testement. To them the new testement was already tainted by man in many ways, except when referring back to the old. What is funny though is that their biggest belief was found in the new testment. It was that man was supposed to strive to be perfect. Wait. Let me rephrase just as i remember my mother stating or as close i can remember"Man is supposed to be perfect just as Jesus was and we are supposed to spend our entire life trying to be so." In her eyes, if we weren't doing so, we were going to hell. 

   Well I can proudly say I had two of the most hypocritical parents I have ever met in my life. They preached The Word(the Bible) so hard that I bet they even spewed it in their sleep. Just like in the movie, I can recall and tremor with anxiety as flashes of belts, wooden paddles specially made by my father, wooden spoons, and young, green, and thin switches from the nearby trees pass through my mind in rememberence of the beatings my siblings used to get. My siblings were beaten so hard, yet never saved and sometimes I wonder if that is my fault. Alex Cooper was lucky as she was given the chance to find someone at school who would rescue her from the home she was in but also provide the lawyer needed to keep her from ever going back. 

   Everytime I watched in horror as my siblings were hit, I wondered if I should call child services. Why didnt I? I could have possibly gotten them into another home, maybe a better home with a family who may have protected them. However the thought that I would fail and that i could land them in a worse home, maybe a sexually abusive home was more frightening than anything. They would have been split up from me and everyone else as no one would ever take in 7 kids all in one home. So I bit my tongue.

   Now I know what some of you may wonder. Why do I keep mentioning my siblings' lashings and not mine. You see I was already 14 at this time when my parents went "Amish" and extremely abusive and I threatened to call CPS if they touched me. A few times, my mother would slip and grab my arm and yank me, or she would strike me across the mouth, but nothing that would leave a mark. My mother knew she had control. She had control of my father who just went along with it all because whatever reason. She had conrtol over me because she knew that CPS would seperate us and I didnt want that. More than anything I believed that if we stuck together as siblings, we could overcome it all. 

I need a moment.... This is going to be a lot harder than i thought it was. The passion of getting my story out, my siblings story out is alot harder than I ever imagined... I know that i have PTSD from some of the things growing up, but always considered it minor. It only causes random bursts of anxiety or nightmares. So i thought I could do this.... For now, let's put this on pause and I will circle around.