3 min readDec 12, 2021


I get fascinated by a lot of things. There's mental health and how people can live with mental health conditions, the unsuspecting persons with mental health conditions and those with diagnoses who have simply suffered trauma. I'm amazed at extroversion, how there's a preference for loud and bubbly when others like me will rather opt for quiet and seemingly boring things. How introversion is one of the few things I recognize from my childhood while others can't seem to stop talking about this wonderful well of memories they have. I wonder sometimes if my life will become bearable in the future - me, lying in bed with no bolting pain in my stomach signaling me to expect the sleep thief again tonight. A girl with thoughts only of regular schedules to be followed Instead of being submerged in a sea of a thousand memories of pain with nothing to do. No flashbacks with excruciating pain or a paralyzing fear or surprising irritability at everything. I imagine the same beautiful stillness sweeping me off my feet every time I sip tea, doing the same when there's no more tea. I know you imagine it too, maybe a bit different from mine. But unlike others, our stillness comes amid the chaos that's already been created for us.

Of all the compulsive dreamy things that invade my mind, healing is the most fascinating. Perhaps it's because it's sold to us as a beautiful hamper basket filled with all of our favorite things in the world. We can light candles, eat candies, and feel better. We can take a day off and be all fixed. I'll tell you though, healing is brutal and ugly. While you're taking the time to relax, the world doesn't wait because they didn't experience the abuse with you. As you try to sort out the mess in your head, make it from a doctor's appointment to another, milestones will be reached. When you battle insomnia, others will enjoy their beauty sleep, wake up refreshed to conquer the day. When you take those baby steps with God, others will be in a different realm, experiencing something bigger. On days when people boast of their progress, you may not visibly see yours. The air will sometimes feel like others before you have exhausted it, leaving a miniature amount for you to manage. You can't harbor resentment. If it didn't happen, your life too wouldn't stop for others who were affected.

Healing is slow and unpleasant. It won't always make you happy when you do the work. You will cry hard and laugh hard and combine both at the same time. You'll never be ahead of your triggers no matter how well you know them. It'll still show up on your happiest days because your body is an embodiment of memories you can't fully comprehend. You have stories written on and in you. Every part of your body is a reminder of the unseen and it's a miracle you've survived this long, still kicking and fighting for your sanity. Healing is a journey back home to yourself. You're trying to unify all the different parts of you that exist for survival. There's you who feels betrayed by a body that didn't flee at the sight of danger. There's you carrying the weight of shame that should be on your abuser. Then there's you who's scared of living in your own body. There's you who fantasize an escape through death. There's you who doesn't know how to receive all the love they give to others. There are so many versions you've lost track of. Well, all of them must harmonize as one. Healing is slow because it's easier to scatter than to gather up and bind things together. It's not a reflection of additional damage. Healing is going to take however long it takes.

Forget about the ever-evolving world. Let things go on without you. You're forever changed and now exist with a unique trajectory. All wounds must heal eventually. Jesus binds up broken pieces the best. I hope someday, you'll be amazed at your healing journey and the progress you've made.

"He heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds [healing their pain and comforting their sorrow]".

Psa 147:3 AMP


I chronicle my experience with sexual, emotional, and religious abuse. Trauma is everywhere around us and I write to show you that you're not alone.