It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, or how many counseling sessions I have attended, sometimes I am still afraid. Sometimes the images I tried so hard to erase from my mind haunt my thoughts. Sometimes I feel guilty for all the things I could have done. Sometimes I wonder what it was that made so many people want to hurt me. After a while, its hard not to think it’s me, that maybe I am doing something wrong.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to walk down a street without having to scan the whole environment, on edge as I wait to ensure my safety. I think I lost this when I was four. At four I knew I had to be mindful of where I went and who I let see me. That fear is burned deep into my being.
I often get a feeling in my bones that alerts me to the danger that is waiting for me. It has quieted down a lot, but it still lingers in the breeze. It is not just one lurker that waits for me. There are a few, and each one has an entourage of others who could be after me too. And then I stop and think how crazy this all sounds, until I remember, its not crazy at all.
It is my reality.