The thing that haunts me,
the thing that never leaves my mind,
the thing that overshadows my every decision,
is too horrific to even speak out loud or for that matter think about.
The thing that changed me to my very soul, is also the thing that makes me who I am.
I will never get over what happened to me,
…what was done to me…
but I also know that if this hadn’t happened to me, I wouldn’t be able to help so many others.
I can now be the strong one, the one that others look to for help for support.
I am done being the weak one,
the one that others look at with pity,
done being the person whose body would quiver with the fear that I was back, that it was happening again,
done being the person whose body would flinch and pull away whenever I was touched,
done feeling as though I am holding my breath waiting for my life to be mine again.
My body used to seize up, my throat would close and I would be gasping for air, trying to breath,
trying to take control,
but still not being able to do anything about the panic, despair, and helplessness rising in my chest.
It felt as though I was drowning, with every breath I took I sank further out of site
I don’t know if I could ever be loved after this,
I don’t know if I could let someone love me after this.
I have built a wall around myself,
a wall that I haven’t let down, or let anyone through.
But if I had the chance to erase what was done to me,
I wouldn’t take it, because if I didn’t go through that pain, then I wouldn’t have been able to see how strong I am.
What defines me is not what has happened to me, or the times that I have felt like giving up,
but it is how I have chosen to rebuild myself after these times, how I have chosen to put myself back together