I feel like all my blog posts on here lately (despite being extremely few and far between) have been about trauma and that is feeling crap and just kind of tiresome to me today. I don’t mean for them to be, and yet, that’s how we met, and this blog that we created together was always going to have a lot to do with it. But I’m hoping some of these words will start to have some better connotations soon.
This one makes me think of all of those people that recover memories of childhood sexual abuse. I wasn’t one of them, I’ve never really forgotten what happened to me, so I can’t ever truly understand the feeling of having the rug pulled out from under you and recovering these kinds of terrible things.
I can’t imagine the shock, the terror, the pain, the horror. I can’t imagine having to try to comprehend it and sift through it, and try to accept it as your truth.
I have remembered memories that I had forgotten about, but they were just more memories, more times it happened, different places. And they were simply forgotten for a few years, put to the very bottom of my mind, so that I could get on with my life for a little bit, just like I did will all of it for a couple of years.
I can’t imagine having this thrown into your conscious out of nowhere, the pain of uncovering, piece by slow, horrifying piece, a childhood that you had no idea belonged to you. So this word makes me think of those poor people, and the terrible experience of that.
And as a side note, to all those false memory syndrome bastards… fuck. you.
Nobody would choose this.