everytime I think about sharing my story here, I get angry.
but not at the persons who hurt me. At the people who will read my story.
Its very weird. First of all, one thing I know is that anger is always the first emotion to pop up. Whether its really fear or sadness or anxiousness, it will always manifest as anger first. So for me, I have learned, being angry doesn't always mean I am actually angry -- it just means I am feeling something negative and anger is the least "weak" emotion so it is the one I am most comfortable with.
I think why I am having such negative emotion focused at people who might read my story is because I'm already rehearsing in my mind all the things I am afraid you will say to me. It was my intention to tell you what I am afraid you will say but I can't even say that without being afraid of judgment and ridicule.
. . .
ok, here's some of it. not my story, but what I am afraid of in thinking about telling it:
I did nothing wrong. I need you all to know that.
I am not afraid you will blame me.
I am afraid you will tell me that I am weak for letting it ruin me.
It is more than what some people have shared. It is nothing compared to the horrors some other people on here have shared, and those people seem to be doing so much better than me.
If the things that XXXXXXXXXXX did to me aren't as bad as what some have faced. me having a worse reaction to it means I am weak.
I am so much stronger than so many people who never had to deal with this sh*t. But I have survived by learning how to never be in a group where I am the weakest. And if I am the weakest, not to let anyone know.
Look at me. Here I sit, protected by the interminable distance of the faceless internet, and I'm still scared that all of you -- fellow survivors -- will turn on me the moment you smell weakness.
I know I will have to climb out of that. I know growth is hampered by being unable to tell the difference between rational skepticism and irrational fear.
I don't know what anyone can say, of course. There is no comment that cannot be misconstrued by a paranoid brain.
Ok, thanks for reading. I hope I didn't say anything outside the lines.
Like a spent gladiator
crawling in the colosseum dust
who can count on his remaining limbs
all the people he can trust.
Like the one who stands behind him
cheering him on
Estatic when he stands defiant,
wild with abandon when he's gone
just stay alive.
do whatever you need to.
you are worth it.