![]() Sometimes I find I can express myself better in email or text than I can through talking because I’m most articulate with my thoughts when writing. ![]() So, what to do with all that? For me, I knew I wanted to write about it. The years between my childhood and adolescence and now have given me the space to see that, to acknowledge that my feelings were-and are-valid. I don’t like to talk about it, even with those closest to me, because I’m afraid they’ll tell me it all wasn’t a big deal, that I’m overreacting, that I’m being dramatic. Part of the reason for that, I now understand, was an unhealthy dose of gaslighting when I was younger. I’m not a big talker when it comes to deep emotions or revealing trauma. Whether I like it or not, my past has shaped who I am now and I can’t deny those parts of my any more than I can deny the color of my hair (well, maybe that’s a bad example since my hairstylist does a pretty good job of doing exactly that). ![]() Like a toddler who closes their eyes and thinks you can’t see them. ![]() For years, I thought I could simply forget the things that happened in my past, falsely believing I could make them disappear if I didn’t give them any attention. In my experience, trauma lives somewhere deep under the skin and bursts forth at the most inopportune times, like a bad rash. ![]() Do we ever get over trauma? I don’t think so. ![]()
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