In my young adulthood, I have struggled with the idea of truth. Truth-telling requires courage, boldness, integrity, and the ability to withstand the blacklash from those who seek to hide the truth. For me, this blog gives me the opportunity to not only speak my truth, but to overcome fear, anxiety, and retaliation. There is power in my pen.
Truth-telling is not popular.
Truth-telling involves many risks.
Toward Healing: However, the truth will indeed free you! I believe it! I am finding that. The anxiety of living lies and holding secrets costs way too much. A major aspect of my journey to becoming well has been confronting the reality of my being. Because our society victim blames and shames, truth-telling is difficult.
Difficult Truth: I survived. I survived a traumatic childhood–pain, shame, abuse–physical, mental, sexual, emotional and spiritual abuse. From 5-16, I was subjected to some form of manipulative, abusive or harmful behavior by adults in my life. During that time frame, I was informed that the paternity of my father was wrong. Heading into college, inappropriate relationships with adult men, pregnancy, trying to cope with loss, pain and suffering my decision making skills became clouded. Young adulthood consisted of numerous domestic assault incidents with my mother, busted lips, umbrellas upon my head. Prescription medication dependence became an outlet for survival. Surviving was merely my goal. I survived a 12 year romantic relationship that became mentally and spiritually abusive. It ended with intimate partner violence. That rocked my boat! I collapsed mentally. I survived a nervous breakdown, PTSD and anxiety at its peak. Psychosis. The inability to trust or reason. Bars of soap eaten, vomit redigested from upon the dirty floor, vaginal manipulation, slick groping of my precious private parts, yes, indeed I survived. My truth, my story. While scarred & bruised, I recover stronger, healthily, and in sound mind. The most difficult part of these truths, for me, is the denial of them. When a word or touch injures that wound, and the offender does not acknowledge it–it hurts again.
But one day along the journey, I changed my mode from survival to thriving. I flourish and thrive past the pain. I soar above the bitter tear-stained memories toward greatness. I press toward healing and tranquility. I bask in love and gentleness. Survival is no longer an option. I bravely tell my truth, I courageously release the pain, I boldly receive healing, wholeness and well-being! Today and forevermore!!!