The War

of surviving severe childhood sexual abuse has always been fought on two fronts. The Outer Front, Watchung for and avoiding men, the predators and the Inner Front keeping the inner world from leaking out, building walls and doors, keeping Inside People separated with walls and thick curtains.

A twofront war.

Living in Middleland

I feel 14, the perfect age to be the purveyor of Middleland. I'm constantly uncomfortable and on the verge of a scream or a faint. I don't fit quite right. Nervous and unsettled.

Betwixt what has been, what is, and where it will go. A seer, a sayer, an unwilling explorer.

Not being sure where to so, I move slowly with cautious and calculations. 

Starting to realize the family hearth was full of smoke and sick rules painted on the wall that could only be seen if you parted the fog and lived within the timbered walls full of invisible think barriers. Taught the "wisdom" at mothers knee which was a series of paranoid untruths, but, children, especially her children believed every honeyed word.

Different "knowledge" was learned at fathers knee, which still cannot be spoken clear lest people vomit and turn away, turn off my channel in dismay.

Was I the only audacious audience to the massive, heavily portrayed farce called my family? The sickening Don and Sharon show? Quite an audience but how many played? Sick circus show called my family