Today, out-of-nowhere, I remembered sitting alone in a darkened room. My father had just left after one of his incestuous encounters. I could hear my siblings playing outside. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, thinking "why me?"
Why me and not the happy, carefree children playing in the yard?
I felt sunk, cheated, like I was robbed and beaten. No one would ever know. No one would see my tears or know my suffering. Hell, I doubt anyone would believe me.
I was forced to turn my energy into encapsulating and shoving inside the memory of what had just happened. Before I stepped outside that closed door, I needed to temporarily forget. Forced to hide my pain. Turning and denying all that I was feeling. Coveting yet another aspect of myself.
It was sad; it is sad, to have something intense and tragic happen and be forced to swallow it into silence. Left alone. The depth of the aloneness of protecting secrets. I cannot measure..
Yeah. I'm in here...somewhere, behind the walls, amongst the shelves of stashed memories of events and all that I felt.
I felt, I feel, it happened. Deeply tragic.
I am such a closeted freak.
Why me and not the happy, carefree children playing in the yard?
I felt sunk, cheated, like I was robbed and beaten. No one would ever know. No one would see my tears or know my suffering. Hell, I doubt anyone would believe me.
I was forced to turn my energy into encapsulating and shoving inside the memory of what had just happened. Before I stepped outside that closed door, I needed to temporarily forget. Forced to hide my pain. Turning and denying all that I was feeling. Coveting yet another aspect of myself.
It was sad; it is sad, to have something intense and tragic happen and be forced to swallow it into silence. Left alone. The depth of the aloneness of protecting secrets. I cannot measure..
I felt, I feel, it happened. Deeply tragic.
I am such a closeted freak.
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