Why I started this weblog

I have a story inside me. One that took nearly 40 years to construct, even though I am still small inside.

I have had no voice since I was small. My cousins stole my voice. They silenced me with threats. In exchange for letting me tag along with them, as everyone made them do, they decided to abuse me. And if I told, my grandmother would blame me; that she would no longer love me.

<In a child’s mind, there is no adult logic.>

I don’t remember how long it went on. Only that some memories have lived inside me for years.

<As an adult, reassessing those memories with adult logic slams the horror of what happened into us. She didn’t know what they were doing to her. Only that it was somehow not right.>

My big sister and aunt Artist helps me write this story. To put into words the simultaneous loneliness and beauty we see in the world.

Although I did not create it, this video has my story in it. It is **triggering** and sad, but it rings so true.

<And made us cry. But it also made us realize that it is time Emily’s story was told. For Emily to get her voice back.>

This is not just my story, but the story of all us. That somehow have to be all put back inside of me.



1 Comment»

  mayor_lulzer wrote @

A very sad story, indeed… I’m not a psych therapist but I know enough to place your illness as a form of MPD, only much worse, since it’s kind of latent, subterfuge and disassociative. I’ve been forced-voluntary secluded in a mental institution by the very culprits of the abuse. They wouldn’t even tell me what was wrong. I’m much better now; I only have headaches, unexplained body pain, and depression; that, and an nearly uncontrollable desire to get back at them… all. My life is ruined and I know it; worse still, I realize it is unfixable. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I understand. At least you got to have a family of your own.

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