Chaos & Confusion

Struggling to believe our memories seems to be a strong theme among survivors. The chaotic repercussion of not believing your mind is a serious thing. That event alone locks us into confusion.

We’re fine to blame ourselves for our sexual promiscuity, for all the abusive relationships we’ve allowed and for all the maltreatment we’ve accosted our bodies with. Somehow, we gladly own it all.

Why?

Why is it that we struggle to put the pieces together when our mind is showing them to us?

Why do we fight the truth so desperately?

I used to say, “I’d rather be known as a slut than be known as a person that was raped by her father.” That is no longer true for me.

Why?

Because the cost of denial became much greater than the cost of telling the truth. I was all done and called out the bluff of my past.

Was it easy?

Oh, hell no!

Is denial easy?

Oh, hell no!

Stand up and fight for yourself. Don’t live vicariously through the voice of truth spoken by another victim. Find your own voice. Tell your truth.

Your life depends upon it.

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