*potentially triggering post regarding childhood trauma and predators*
Do you ever read a book or watch something on TV and there is a sentence that feels directed at you? Like the writer knew you needed to hear it. The writer knows your secrets and is calling you out.
I have felt that way a lot lately. Sentences leaping out at me with much more meaning than they should have. The temptation to acknowledge the way it feels directed at me…to talk about my innermost demons. But I don’t talk. The words echo in my mind. My responses are silently thought within myself, never gaining freedom from my thoughts.
Many of these thoughts are about secrets. Secrets kept to try to maintain my sense of normalcy. My sanity. My defense against truth that feels crushing. Secrets I have kept since childhood. Buried. But unearthed with all the predators in powerful positions making me remember…all that I struggle to forget.
Am I the only one who feels these words ring the truth in my innermost thoughts. Tempting me to unburden myself, and speak my truth. Knowing it will not help, but only hurt more when the words are spoken aloud.
Sometimes, I drop a hint or two, hoping someone will ask me what I meant. Or, more accurately, hoping someone will put the pieces together and confront me with the truth. Then I wouldn’t need to hide anymore. I wouldn’t have to pretend.
Until then, I will hear the echo of these phrases and words in my mind. I will wonder if anyone else feels they were targeted by the words, ringing so true in my head.
I am tired of secrets, but terrified of truth.