I belong
I just posted the story of my assault on my blog. I cut the post short, just the story, not the effects. I felt overwhelmed and incoherent. It’s going to take time for me to write it out. I’m not prone to stomach issues, but I’ve been uncomfortable for days writing it. A few minutes after posting it, my back went into a painful muscle spasm. Haven’t had that for years. Not surprised. I’m struggling with all the feelings. Calling what happened an assault takes effort, to cut through denial and minimizing. Feeling compassion for the little boy I was is a fight against all the crap in my head. It’s like a swirling ball, a gyro ripping my insides apart, but keeping me grounded, stuck too.
I’ve always been alone in these feelings. It’s the place I learned to stay off by myself, apart. I know my history is strange and way different then most of yours. But I can’t stand alone anymore. It sucks to say, but I belong here too.
I’ve always been alone in these feelings. It’s the place I learned to stay off by myself, apart. I know my history is strange and way different then most of yours. But I can’t stand alone anymore. It sucks to say, but I belong here too.

