She Is Rising

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.   

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