im having a tough time tonight. My anxiety is high because I’m going to have a physical tomorrow. I love my doctor, she is great, but it doesn’t stop my mind tonight from traveling through time.
i travel back to when there were almost always hands on me. Hands over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream out. Hands holding me down so I could barely move. There were hands that help me to a spot for family pictures or for shopping or other events. It was meant to keep me from straying and telling strangers about the people all the hands belonged too.
mostly the hands hurt or frightened me. Some times they made me feel better. I didn’t understand how at the time. That’s the thing about biology. It’s all fact and not much room for emoting.
the hands mostly took control over me. I resented not having any control.
the older I got the more I wanted to be in control but the less I felt I could ever do it. The older I got the more resigned I got to live with the trauma in acceptance, meaning I accepted that this was my life and that this was my role in it. I was to satisfy others, to sacrifice for those with the hands.
even when I repressed the sexual abuse, I could feel pain, fear, lackey f control, etc etc.
tonight I prepare to try to sleep, with the memory of all thos hands on me, so clear actually can feel them still pressed against my flesh and bones.
i prepare to sleep with ghost and pray for a reprieve from the haunting.
I look upwards, missing my wife tonight, and knowing she is in heaven. What I wouldn’t give to feel her hands now~
Thus goes the night
on the morrow~
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