Me without triggers

[Ivo]

Walls

With no consideration, no pity, no shame,
they have built walls around me, thick and high.
And now I sit here feeling hopeless.
I can't think of anything else: this fate gnaws my mind -
because I had so much to do outside.
When they were building the walls, how could I not have noticed!
But I never heard the builders, not a sound.
Imperceptibly they have closed me off from the outside world.

Constantine P. Cavafy


Hello brothers,
I found this site few days ago.
I wanted to say something about myself but then I concluded that there is already enough pain here.
I decided to present you a poem that is perfectly describing how I feel without possibilities of triggers.
I hope that you have enjoyed, regards.

 

[Bill_1965]

Welcome Ivo (is it Constantine?)

Sorry I missed your first post. Also sorry that you have the need for our site, but at the same time glad that you found us.

It does seem like someone came in and built a wall around us. That someone is us. Walls built to keep people and harm out, but the walls also block us in. These guys here are a great ladder to help climb out.

Take care,
Bill

 

[Brayton]

This poem describes my feelings about alienation from the 'normal' world exactly.

I have talked to my therapist about just such a wall, thick and inpenetrable. When I first spoke to her about it, it seemed so huge, so thick that ever being able to break it down seemed impossible.

I've come to understand that having experienced the abuse, the effects of the abuse, the memories of the abuse will always be with me. I think now that the wall in some form or another will always remain but for this one thing--while the wall remains, I can also learn to build gates through which to pass both forth and back.

It is a slow process. I am usually impatient with it. Some days even the idea of building gates seems impossible. But, where it used to be that there was only the wall and never a thought of gates, today more and more often the building of gates absorbs my attention.

Even the thinnest thread of hope is all that is needed and the fact that I have survived tells me that I have clung to that thread all along. The abuse confines me. My resiliency liberates me.
--Both at once.