If only it was, skin deep. Epidermis and tissue can be sewn, even glued shut. It can be treated with antibiotics and therapies to enhance and accelerate the healing process. It's so much more though, this wound. It's spiritual, emotional, psychological and the least of it's damage is skin deep.
I'm talking about the wound of abuse.
The words abusers speak, the manipulations and exhaustive exercises they put souls through. --They brand minds and to sear mental recordings with lies.
Lies, that if left untreated, just like a skin deep wound have and will infect the rest of one's being.
For me these lies were once a blanket I used to cope and conceal. I used them to hold my broken heart together for a time suppressing my true emotions.
These lies comforted me and gave me a false sense of control. Control that was stolen from me when my abusers first touched to me.
Lies that said "It's YOUR fault." something as a victim I had told myself time and again in hopes for that false sense that I had some control. I needed to feel I wasn't the helpless victim no one wanted to believe I was anyway.
Breaking the cycle of these lies and the layers of shame they had held over me, made healing on every level possible.
It is, was, and continues to be hard. Well meaning loved ones try to help but it's hard for them to understand.
I am a survivor of more than just abuse and assault. I am a survivor of a false sect that fronted as "family." They coddled my abusers because entangled within their communion were the very monsters who touched me. The very barbarians who looked at me with hungry eyes and spoke to me with their blasphemous mouths -- lived amongst and were people whom my life was entrusted to, family.
As I look back at my youth it pains me to try and grasp the level of desperation and denial one had to live under to miss all the signs of hell right in front of them.
Then to couple that with a strong religious foreground--oh, how depraved they are!
Yet, I was once one of these delusional individuals. A hard grievous truth that I have and do face daily.
Skin deep, not even my tears are just skin deep. They come from deep within, a reservoir where pain and hurt meet mercy and healing. The effects of which are pools of soul cleansing tears.
Tears which only recently in my life have I allowed myself permission to feel and experience.
How can this be? How do such places of horror and people of illness exist?
My comfort is understanding that, this side of eternity- I don't have to be able to comprehend how or why on such matters. I must give myself permission to deduce that I do not even need the answers nor does it matter if there are fathomable conclusions. These entities and evils do exist, period.
My purpose in healing is for personal gain. However, it is also a proposition which effects others around me a great deal. I now possess a real family. One which I am a huge part of creating and even keeping together. If my wounds which are much more than skin deep are not properly cared for and dealt with, they can possibly infect not just myself but the entire unit and community of support and family around me. I am not responsible for the evils committed against me in the past but I am responsible for my healing process and the power I allow it have in my life.
Healing does not end because you can no longer see the wounds.
