Lets not forget so quick, and give it a bad name.

[DontGiveUpOnMe]

If you read this, I hope you don't think I am in a bout of self pity
I am in this small place of remembering.
Something these abusers do is they tell you never to remember because you made it up
then when you go into the world, you're told "move on, that was the past, close the chapter"

Who said I was trying to live there?
Saying those things are no different than "you're dirty and you must be hidden"
As a child they kicked me into a closet, was the four walls my enemy or was it my cushion?
it made their kicks deeper and my stomach responded by cupping the memory and my mind created a light
the pain would sit on the side while I got up and went to bed.

This was a day, this is a life.
It isn't maybe, like your life... .but why do I have to close it?
The pain can be a comforting familiarity, although unhealthy... .it was my life.

Now I wake up, no kicks, and I take a train, and I sit in a desk... .and things are different
I feel in control, nobody creates my reality anymore and when I grasp a cup it feels real, my mind doesn't wander
it doesn't tell my Im holding a key that will turn into a flying dragon and I am far away ... .
I really just hold a cup.

Is it strange that I miss the childlike imagination? but when I think of my child inside,
it is also painful?
I wont hide her because it makes you uncomfortable
although it wasn't right, there are many types of childhoods... .some darker some lighter.

This is me, and if I hide her I tell her shes unwanted and unwelcome in holding a cup with me, and seeing reality.

I just want people to stop telling abuse survivors to forget, to close, to stop.

This happened, it doesn't define us anymore, and we still hide in closets because they are safe... .its not crazy. not bad.
Its who we are... .survivors.

Now the outside of the closet is safe too, I'm happier.

but sometimes the pain feels familiar and comforting, so I'm learning to take my child out and teach her another familiar, but not in a way that makes the past seem like it was disgusting and to be forgotten.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I feel there is too much emphasis on a forgetful progress... .how about an inclusive progress?
How about a verbal progress where we accept darkness felt good sometimes... .as we learn to feel good in light that we wanted so bad?

THat darkness my mother gave me was the closest I got to her body, in a cradling way, even though she was abusing me... .

I'm learning.

Give me time.

This post was a poem of sorts, for those who might understand or be in this place.

[Kwamina]

A poem of sorts indeed, thanks for sharing this DontGiveUpOnMe, your post is heartfelt and beautifully written  

I think for us children of PD parents to truly heal and move on, we indeed mustn't forget but need to find ways of facing and processing our past without being totally overwhelmed by it. Integrating our past and past selves with our present and present self, is essential to be able to heal and grow. Accepting our past and embracing the child we were by itself is a healing experience.

We don't have to let our past define us, but it is true that the person we are today is a result of everything that we experienced in our past. It might not always have been a joyous past, yet still it is our past, the only past we got. It is for ever part of us and denying it or hiding it, would be denying and hiding part of ourselves.

Take care

The Board Parrot

[DontGiveUpOnMe]

A poem of sorts indeed, thanks for sharing this DontGiveUpOnMe, your post is heartfelt and beautifully written  

I think for us children of PD parents to truly heal and move on, we indeed mustn't forget but need to find ways of facing and processing our past without being totally overwhelmed by it. Integrating our past and past selves with our present and present self, is essential to be able to heal and grow. Accepting our past and embracing the child we were by itself is a healing experience.

We don't have to let our past define us, but it is true that the person we are today is a result of everything that we experienced in our past. It might not always have been a joyous past, yet still it is our past, the only past we got. It is for ever part of us and denying it or hiding it, would be denying and hiding part of ourselves.

Take care

The Board Parrot

Kwamina , thank you for reading... .and responding so kindly.

I am officially free, I am self sufficient and the most stable I've been since my birth. Its so new its scary, but its more curious than frightening. Life feels like its possible

The darkness still lives next to me, and I sleep in my closet sometimes because as crazy as that sounds, it feels more familiar and comfortable than a bed... .but I'm teaching myself to sleep on a bed... .even figuratively.

Its crazy how much freedom everyone else has, and how free life really is, I didn't know.

[Kwamina]

I am officially free, I am self sufficient and the most stable I've been since my birth. Its so new its scary, but its more curious than frightening. Life feels like its possible

This is wonderful to read As Board Parrot I know your story and I am very happy to read about these positive developments

I can also relate to you feeling scared though, being free is a totally new experience so it's only natural I think that it takes time to get used to. But there are many new possibilities for you now and that's wonderful!

The darkness still lives next to me, and I sleep in my closet sometimes because as crazy as that sounds, it feels more familiar and comfortable than a bed... .but I'm teaching myself to sleep on a bed... .even figuratively.

The thing with abuse and the circumstances of abuse is that even though we might not have liked it, it still was everything we knew and in a way the abuse and the circumstances surrounding it actually felt 'normal'. Healing and growth takes time and you are definitely moving in the right direction

I can actually also very much relate to what you say about the darkness still living next to you. I have found that the best way for me to deal with the darkness is actually to acknowledge and in a way embrace it, because only after acknowledging it, am I able to do something about it. However, if I don't acknowledge it, I am telling myself there isn't a problem so then there's also nothing to work on. And sometimes I don't even really need to work on anything, just by acknowledging the existence of that thing living next to me, I am also acknowledging part of me and my experience and just that acknowledgement can be very healing too.

Its crazy how much freedom everyone else has, and how free life really is, I didn't know.

Sounds like you're gradually seeing the possibility of becoming free as a bird which I as Board Parrot can of course very much appreciate

[Panda39]

Hi DontGiveUpOnMe,

Thank you for sharing your poem, it was painful and lovely.  I find it so helpful to write my feelings too.  Putting those feelings that are rattling around inside somewhere for safe keeping and later reflection.

I think that our pasts don't define us, but do inform who we are.  We can learn, and grow, and think, and feel, and make choices as we become adults.

We don't forget the past but to me it's what we do with that experience moving forward.  I believe stuffing and ignoring and "forgetting" that pain arrests or slows our progress forward.  For me it's not forgetting the past and not stuck in the past but looking back, to move forward. 

You are on the path keep up the good work
Panda39

[HappyChappy]

Hey DontGiveUpOnMe,

Wow that was a beautiful account of an ugly time. It has rhythm in all the right places. You have a talent, maybe that’s the silver lining to what must have been a terrible ordeal. My mother use to stick me in the coal cellar,  a bit like a cockney chimney sweep, except I went down  rather than up, and I’m not cockney. Otherwise it’s exactly the same. 

I totally agree with your point about remembrance day. We should not forget, as that is what they want, that enables them to do more. But then again we should not dwell. That said, I don’t like cellars, or Dick Van Dyke.