11 Yr Old Shades

Most of the time I see in black and white

“All or nothing” and some shades of red.

Seems more concrete, wrong and right

Easier to see, alive or dead.

These eyes that see the world in these extremes

Always turn inward and try to dream

Of how I would be if I were like you

Who could see in color, like greens and blues.

I feel like I’ll never get there, every year that goes by

I still feel my smile is sometimes a lie

I still wait for the poison after the bite

I wait for the pain, my breathing so tight.

Somedays I give up the hope that I’ll ever be

Someone those people would ever want to see.

Afraid that I’m destined to be an alien to all

Afraid that I’ve spent too much time building this wall.

That even when I myself try to escape

Crazy, odd, naked and they all start to gape.

Tainted, painted with grays and browns

Taught to laugh in uneasy frowns

This ugly duckling just wants to be free

Someday I’ll actually be happy to be me.

Often I feel as if I’m stuck being ten in my mind and I really hate it and sometimes I feel like I wish I could Actually BE ten again.. or eleven

Well, it isn’t Monday but I wrote this after a group session which is held on Mondays

Mondays
Today I learned to breathe.
Today I learned how to feel free.
Like a sip of water in my cupped hand
It all slips away like grains of sand.

Today I remembered how to cry.
Today I remembered how to feel alive.
But like nostalgic scents hovering in the air,
I let it go for a second, and now it’s not there.

Today I discovered how to smile.
Today I threw away the self-denial.
An open door into a better life
Further away from the edge of this knife.

Today I learned how to feel.
Today I learned that it’s ok to be real.
Today I took my hands off my eyes
I let myself see, and I was surprised.

Camouflage

Everyday I think I get closer
I get closer to blending, bending like them.
Out of no where comes this reminder
This is harder than I ever dreamt.

These demons just pop up no matter where I am
Whatever the progression towards a comfortable feel
They hit me so hard and unexpectedly
So invisible, this pain, but so incredibly real.

I pretend to be unaffected
But the attempt is more obvious than the admission.
Now will they all know and shun me?
Will they feed me further in my depression?

* I wrote this after having somewhat of a panic attack after English class. The discussion in this class was centered on a play that had been written from the point of view of a survivor of childhood abuse- her uncle had been a pedophile. Hearing everyone else’s opinions on the narrator not only made my own past come screaming out at me, but it made me feel extremely exposed. I almost lost it in class, but I just waited till I got outside.

Tonight at the sexual asault survivors support group that I facilitate, the topic of covert sexual abuse came up. The women shared stories of those subtle, or not so subtle, forms of sexual abuse that leave the victim feeling like, “Wait a minute…I know that was wrong, but I’m not sure.”

The women talked about everything from exposure to dad’s pornography collection to comments about their developing breasts and included innuendo about their sexuality by male relatives. The women talked about how damaging this type of emotional sexual abuse was just as damaging as actual rapes and molestation. They shared about how crazy it made them feel and how it made them doubt themselves.

I am curious about whether others have had this experience and if there are any resources on this topic I can share with my group.