Saturday, November 3, 2012

Free Form Writing - Things Unsaid.


(From an old Shelter group memory.)

"Stick and stone may break my bones, but words can never hurt me."

Bullshit.

Stick and stones heal, words take a whole hell of a lot longer. They're "pretty like a butterfly, but sting like a bee." (Ali) The only thing worse is not what is said, but what is unsaid.

What we think about ourselves, what we perceive others think about us. They all have lasting effects on us.

Last night I had to share my story. I had to recount a memory to my group and explain my thoughts and feelings about it. Was it the worse memory I own? No, though I'm not sure which one is, however, it was my most hated, most shameful, most raw memory.

Why did I speak of it? Because it has always been unsaid. I have never been able to talk about it, to get it out of my system so to speak. It had grown into this huge tidal wave of shame and guilt deep inside me, and once spoken it spilled over in a flood. The water, the pain, is still standing, but it is no longer overwhelming and my head is still above water so far.

But back to my point.

All the ladies were quiet, their unspoken words tore at me. I began to panic, sure that they were trying to decided whether to reject what I had just told them as truth, or not. My heart was sinking fast.

The leader looked at me and asked me what I was feeling. Could she not see it on my face? Scared, shaky, scattered, panicked, but overall just an overwhelming despair I told her. At their silence I rambled on.

I'm frustrated and angry that nothing ever happened to him and now never could. And I am almost tremendously depressed for girls I don't even know. I know the shit I had to go through and I despair that there are other victims of his that are suffering with this. Then suddenly one of the girls started crying.

She cried for me.

Her unspoken words suddenly became clear. She cared about me, she cared and didn't think I deserved any of that. My throat closed up. One of the other ladies spoke up.

Do you realize what you just said? You are sitting their crying your eyes out for girls you don't' even know, but not for yourself. You honestly don't believe you're worth the tears.

Something clicked.

She was right.

How many times have I sat on that oversized brown couch, recounting my experience and feelings and degrading myself? How many times has the counselor stopped me to point out I had called myself a bitch or slut more than three times in one breath, without even realizing it?

All the memories I had written in my journal screamed at me. Every moment I believed I wasn't worth anything seemed to stand out in my scrawling chicken scratch. People can say your worth it all day long, but when you have been this deeply brainwashed it doesn't make a huge impact. Your unspoken words overrule all else.

And for once I cried.

I cried that this sad little girl sitting here telling her story truly believed this.

Maybe it means I'm learning I am worth it. Maybe it means I realized I was wrong about myself. Maybe it means I'm healing, who knows.

The ladies finally told me they were so quiet because they were furious and distraught for me and honestly didn't know what to say, or do with it. They had to ride it out and then let it go. Hearing them voice that truly helped me. At least I knew they cared then.

To be honest right now I don't even know what to do with this new information about myself. It's combating things I have known and believed all my life. So honestly I've shut down a bit. I'm taking a mental break, letting this new idea sink in and hopefully get through my thick skull this time. We'll see.

I supposed my whole point to this rant is don't leave things unsaid; it's more damaging that healing for people. Just be smart about what you say, that's all.

Posted by at
Labels: ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)