An Empty Mind

When you leave abusive, incestuous homes, not only are you on auto-pilot but your mind becomes vacant and void. I always felt like I merely stumbled from one situation to another. That’s why I held onto relationships at all costs, because I was terrified to be alone.

I didn’t trust myself and without my story I had no internal dialogue. Now, I wish my internal dialogue wasn’t so strong.

I had to learn to champion for myself. That’s tough, especially when I’d never had anyone champion for me before. What did it look like? Standing up for myself was foreign territory that I feared. Every time I had stood up for myself, I had been punished. That stayed with me in my first marriage and many relationships after that one.

Being alone was my preferred method for years. It seemed easier.

Now that my mind and story have returned to me, maintaining balance can be difficult. My mind swirls with stories of the past. It intermingles with my current affairs and I wish at times I didn’t have all of my story to carry with me.

What other humans battle with their pasts? I wonder?

If your parents loved you, took care of you, coddled you appropriately – do you spend time trying to ignore your past? I wonder?

Storytelling around a dinner table is easy for these folks because their stories are pleasant to hear, heart-warming and fun. My storytelling is complicated, horrific to some and disheartening to others. I don’t share my story at very many dinner tables.

Do you see why I spend time trying to stifle my story? When my mind was void and my past was removed from my sight, I didn’t struggle as much because I had nothing to put away. As a matter of fact, I used to search my mind trying to find pieces of my past.

I certainly don’t have to do that anymore.

Sometimes, what I struggle with now is confusion around who to trust. I’m perplexed trying to discern how to carry the burden of the murdered woman laying at the bottom of dumpsite.

Finding our stories can be very complicating and that’s probably a deterrent for many. For me, I’m proud of the hard labor I’ve put into healing. I can’t go back now nor would I try. I am more safe than I’ve ever been. I have nourishment in my soul and I know how to stand up for my rights. I have privileges now that God has given me and I have a strong voice I use daily.

I will be tender with my need sometimes to check out. My life has been hard, that’s just a true statement.

The battle to stay in the good fight weighs on me but I won’t give up.

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