I really don’t know what to say. The words don’t flow easily, though the thoughts are relentless.
I could tell a story, I can paint a picture, but apparently in writing only. And even then, I hold back. I minimize. I blame myself.
My words are not eloquent late at night. But they are (less)filtered.
I don’t know how to tell this story. I don’t know how to say the words. Let alone the “r” word
He (unknowingly) followed me into my house and came into my bathroom uninvited. What happened next wasn’t up to me. It feels wrong to talk about. It feels like I’m doing something wrong to even think about it. I don’t know how to heal from this…if I even can.
I don’t know how to tell anyone, I’m pretty sure I can’t. If anyone knew…the repercussions would be huge.
I have therapy tonight, but there has been tension lately because of my inability to put my thoughts into words. I want her to know, I don’t want to be in this alone. But there could be a price to pay, and I can’t have that happen. I need the words to never leave that room, and I don’t know if that’s possible.
I’m left with bruises on my body and untold stories that make up nightmares.
I’ve proven my strength time and time again. I will not let this get the best of me. Even if I have to deal with it alone.
Although I’d really rather not have to keep it to myself forever.
I’m ready to stop having to prove that I am strong. I’m ready for the luxury of weakness.