When I turned 19, I made a conscious decision to embark on my journey to healing. 5 years of therapy later, a book published notating my journey through time found that writing was my antidote for healing. When I wrote something was set free in me. When I wrote I felt the rebellion and the complicated feelings were comprehensible. As I feel myself finally stepping into the other side of the trauma I have been through I can finally see the light after a very dark time in life. I feel like daybreak as shown through dark and cloudy times. I look back and it all makes sense now.
My healing began when I first acknowledged my feelings. I acknowledged my hurt and that feeling was overwhelming I had built a defense mechanism and I knew that as long as I kept my shield up no one could hurt me, or so I thought. The ultimate truth was I was hurting myself by not acknowledging my pain and pushing it aside for others who wanted claim over me, who wanted power over me.
When I acknowledged my feelings and validated my own emotions I was finally able to be present with myself. I was able to get real with myself and I found that I was hurting more than ever. I needed a savior and the only savior that was going to bring me back to life was myself. I had no rope or anyone to crawl to, all I had was myself. The man that abused me for years had controlled everything in my life and had taken so much from me, but I remembered the deep-down rebellion that was inching itself forward within me. I found my power and I knew exactly what I was going to do with it. I did the only thing I knew how to do. So I wrote.
I had become mute for a number of years closed off by pain but writing set me free.
