What haunts me most is how long it stayed buried. How long I lived with it in me and affecting my every thought, without even being aware.
I lived from the time I was 4 years old until I was 38 without telling anyone, or addressing any of it. One random incident occasionally passed through my head, but I felt so guilty, so dirty, so evil, that I brushed it aside as quickly as I could. I had obviously done some terrible, unforgivable things. I was irredeemable. But maybe if I could keep that one memory buried I could be good enough to make up for it somehow.
So I was haunted then by a single memory. And now I'm haunted by all the other memories that were buried and I didn't even know they were there until I acknowledged that one memory for what it was -- abuse. Not me making a bad choice, or me being a bad person. Me being violated, abused, taken advantage of by a monster.
And that was 12 years ago. Twelve years of hashing through muck and mire to retrieve a lost soul. To find out who I really am, and realize that all that muck and mire, and the survival of it, made me who I am today.
So while I'm still haunted by events from my past, and I'm haunted by the portions of my life that feel muted by the effort to keep the memories at bay, I'm also starting to remember some good things I had forgotten, and maybe there will be more reminiscing and less haunting in the coming year.
linking up with Mama Kat