A Song From Your Favourite Album
Life in a private war zone can be disorienting to say the least, devastating at its worst. Waking up not knowing who will greet you today – the parent or the punisher – and struggling to feign normalcy while doing your best not to offend is a tightrope walk no child should bear. Intelligence, insight, maturity – these are no true defense from abuse. They only make it more painful by adding a layer of “I should know better/know how to stop this” and a sense of guilt for one’s justified anger. “Abuse is a cycle.” It may very well be, but it’s not an excuse, only a reason.
To be unsafe at home only to emerge into the world and find that it, too, is unsafe, is a cruel lesson to learn before the age of 20.
It strikes me, every so often, that no matter how far I have come, scars remain. I see them in my fear of raised voices. I hear them in my mental pep talks to speak up and assert myself. I feel them at night, when I cannot sleep alone without great difficulty and reminders that I am safe. I sleep better in a hotel than I do in any place I call my home, and that’s tragic. But it is what it is.
“She never let on how insane it was in that tiny, kinda scary house…“
Black-Dove (January) – Tori Amos