(The above was encountered on the web)
Freedom of Speech is taken for granted.
Freedom of Thought is often misused.
Freedom to be is hard won.
My life is mine.
I admit I did not have any input in being born, that was totally up to the parents.
The 18 hours of labor were not really my “fault” though they were caused by me.
I guess I can accept blame for being too active at 3 for my grandmother, who lasted 1 day with us and moved out because even locking the door could not keep me in the house (it was a hook and an eye and I was creative with the use of chairs).
I could make my own toast at 3 (chairs were marvelous things).
At some point before I hit 4, I (in my words to my mother) “shimmied up” a tree. The fire department got me down as no one else could manage it. I hope I thanked them but somehow I doubt it.
~Introducing fear of heights?~
I own everything that happened to me, though to be honest, I would much rather not. I would trade it for fun rides, travel abroad and perhaps a bigger family. Or even utter pure blandness.
I have not talked a lot about what all happened because of other people’s view of me changing and what I say may put others in a very bad light.
I am not alone in those feelings, I know from others I have spoken to about their lives, that it is hard to speak out.
I am not a victim, that word holds connotations that I refuse to accept.
I am not a survivor, because that shiny little word means it is over, done and forgotten.
In various instances either of the above terms may actually be applicable however in my view I persevere.
The dictionary defines the word in the following context:
to persist in anything undertaken;
maintain a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement; continue steadfastly.
to bolster, sustain, or uphold.
I think that is a more accurate definition of things from the past. I lived in spite of difficulty, learned despite obstacles and became myself through it all.
Now it is accepting that, it is my life, not someone else’s. What I want, need or desire is up to me, not another.
Mistakes are things you do, not who you are.
If someone lies to you, and you believe them, you can blame them for the lie and accept you made a mistake.
If someone takes advantage or cheats you, you hold them accountable for their actions, and accept that you made a mistake.
If someone hurts and abuses you (including sexually), it IS all on them. Your mistake may be either not saying, telling or sharing it (IF you can) or not leaving (again IF you can).
It is easy to shoulder the blame, allow yourself to be responsible for things you had no control over, way to get out of or change. After all, it is happening to you, so you must be responsible somehow, right?
You do not always realize there is a place to go, help anywhere (and sometimes there really isn’t) or people that will listen without judgement.
We take it all, tuck it away inside, and carry on, not realizing that the baggage can be what is holding us back from feeling able to be ourselves.
When you learn that being happy, laughing or even being confident, gains you negative, harsh treatment, well you learn not to.
When dreams are not encouraged, expectations however small not met, and you can’t relax because that will upset someone…it changes your behaviour and trickles into your thinking.
You expect the negative over simple things and you don’t even realize it, until someone points it out.
How often do you want to do something, say something or feel something and you tell yourself it’s wrong, don’t do it. Simple little things, not outrageous or shocking.
Behaviour is so ingrained that you do not realize where it comes from, and with the non anti social type, unless someone points it out and asks, you do not consider it wrong, it just is.
You have a sense of impending doom, a mental, emotional and thus physical sense of disharmony, anger and upset that comes from those around you, and regardless of someone saying it is not directed at you, those feelings are real and you try to fix it or you distance yourself from the issues until the blaze dies down to embers.
Someone is going to think that is a daft statement but if you have ever been around abusive people or situations for extended periods, your senses are a bit sharper towards others, you pick up changes, moods and purely self preservation you react to appease or gain distance. You can be in another room and your still concentrating on where they are, what they are doing and if they are coming your way.
Until recently I never knew there was a term for describing that in a way, hypervigilance. I was surprised to find that out.
Now I can shut up and stop writing, it would likely make me safe and secure, hiding again but those memories, the images, they pop up when you least expect it and I am not insane, so I know repeating the same action expecting it to get better is not the answer.
This is change.
Even if it is a small one.
Hopefully no one will think less of me for it.