She’s not a victim anymore but a survivor. She has scars that carry stories forever. At one point in time the sight of them could make the world want to be blind, but now she wears them with grace. Every moment she breathes is a moment where they don’t win. Every word she writes, they see and must face their own false self, created out of the imaginary. She will never be silenced. The illusions once created are theirs to keep, shackling them to the ground and internally she knows they weep. Unable to speak because the truth would break away the fallacy they created for the world to see. The “I never needed her.” “She was nothing to me.”

Love. What is love? She asks. Love does not change when someone is sick, poor or struggling. Love withstands the pressure of all outside forces trying to conquer it. Love does not stand aside when the person you were supposed to protect is being cornered by those who are unworthy of having that power. It defends and defeats those who try to destroy it. And if you walk away leaving a wounded person on a battlefield, what should it be called? Desertion.

But in her case, this desertion brought her resurrection. And oddly enough, she bears scars on three out of four limbs. She carries the weight like a feather, because they ended up creating something that will never lose its light. Will never go to the pits of the darkness again, but understands the necessity of it. She has learned to stand alone and never let another impose on her will. And this was the most valuable lesson of her life. You see? These scars no longer represent the darkness but the will she had to fight for love.

I’ve been waiting to write this and I don’t know why. This year has been a blur of all the darkest colors on the spectrum. The pain, lack of sleep, isolation, and lack of understanding of what I’m up against has sort of forced me to write this. As well as realizing some people were meant to exit my life so I could try to submit and battle this awful syndrome all at the same time.

Having one of the worst chronic pain conditions truly taught me about myself and others. It’s shown me I would have to be one strong person to face this. I’ve crawled on really bad days, cried silently, and then smiled in the face of this devilish syndrome with no relinquishment of pain. It’s all the same: burning, coldness, discoloration, numbness, and stabbing. Sometimes I stumble over words as if my brain cannot process what is going on like a computer network being ddosed with too much information. I tremor now trying to fight the signals as my nervous system decides to overload them throughout my body.

And there is nothing that can prepare someone for this kind of h*ll on earth. There is nothing that can prepare someone for the judgments, ignorance, and misguided advice you will receieve either. You have to prepare yourself. You have to read the best sources, fight for the best care, live at appointments, and shut out those who just want to criticize. You have to find the people who will help you. They are out there but hiding away from a world where a lack of empathy is ruling most of the mainstream thought processes. You can’t change some people either, but never give up hope in finding those who will understand. They are out there waiting to be found just like you. Be patient with yourself, kind to yourself and it will be okay. Sometimes we must fight battles we never expected, but just know you’re not alone. ❤

She used to be a sad girl by name

She used to stay up crying, it’s so lame

All the boys who broke her heart never complained

About their own sickness driving her insane

Ohhh, she had it bad

Ohhh, she had the sads

You could see it in her eyes

She wore it like a glove inside

Buried her head in their sea of lies

Until she drowned then came back alive

____

And I don’t hate you

I feel sorry you will never feel love

I feel sorry you cursed the angels above

While the devil carried away your dove

_____

She’s no longer the sad girl you tamed

She’s no longer taking all the blame

All the boys who left come running back again

Trying to find the answer to their pain

Ohhh, she doesn’t have the question

Ohhh, it’s in your confession

You can’t see it but it’s in the obsession

Of caring what they all think when they’re beyond redemption

I stand in my own power now

My logic beyond your comprehension

Embark on my journey

Feel my wings glide amidst all the tension.

I cannot erase the image from my mind. He had eyes so vacant they could compete with a clear night sky. He was the dark while I wished for a single bright star to manifest; as if it could be a sign of hope. But no such star would ever be seen.

All the good memories now seem like a fabrication of reality. An experience which she was only present for and he was absent. No wonder she felt so alone even in his presence. Pouring love into a fallacy, as if it could save the illusion he created. It became clear all the dark energy around him now consumed the light in his eyes. Until she could no longer recognize who he was; left with the image of a stranger. And he’s now smoking his life away on a lonely bench with no destination. Choosing a slow demise over love and life.

The hardest thing is to love someone but be put in a position where you must chose yourself. The hardest thing to do is to watch someone fall apart and let the universe step in. The hardest thing is seeing someone be loyal to their own lies and enablers while you are left watching the tradegy unfold. And in your heart, you wished they chose a different path. In your heart, lies the aftermath of the image of what they could have been.

Can’t sleep at night

But everything’s alright

Can’t dream tonight

But it’s to spite

These nightmares

Fears

Disruptions every where

They try to hold me back

Make my thoughts unclear

But they’re not my burdens to bear

When I watch the moon

It’s singing my tune

Secrets always bloom

No stopping the truth

Always have the enemy on mute

Taking my power back

From all you fools

Played it cool

But now my anger is a tool

_____

You walk behind me

Trying to blind me

No more rose colored glasses

I see

Illusionist memories

The illusionist’s memories

Let the pain be

_______

Can’t wake all morning

Coffee cups over pouring

But I’m alright

Can’t stop the sadness

Because of all the madness

But I’m alright

Maybe a bit uptight

But when I see the sun

Glowing for everyone

Who ever lived in the dark

Let others steal their spark

I have faith

Truth will open the gate

All the sullen souls

Will smile once again.

There needs to be awareness of a phenomenon which can possibly happen to victims of abuse. Especially after they leave the situation and the abuser no longer has access to them or control. It’s called abuse by proxy. This is where third parties are misled into thinking the victim deserves further punishment and act on the behalf of the perpetrator.

Tactics include creating humiliating situations, attempting to gain information to relay it to the perpetrator, spreading false rumors, and trying to turn friends or family against the victim. These methods are incredibly effective at silencing, intimidating and isolating the person who holds the truth. Those who do the dirty work are believing they are correcting a perceived injustice when in actuality they are re-traumatizing a person who is trying to heal.

These people who are doing the dirty work are also in a sense, victims. They have been preyed upon, misled, and now wrapped into a web of lies. If they do finally realize a pattern exists with the perpetrator, they end up feeling remorse for playing a part. Or they risk becoming the target for wrath if they confront the narrative given.

I personally believe based upon my own experiences, this could be one of the many reasons why those who have suffered traumatic situations do not speak out. It feels like a misled army is trying to invade your boundaries, peace, and prohibit you from healing. If those you trusted turn against you, it can be incredibly difficult to face all of this alone. For anyone going through this please know there are people out there who have faced the same type of abuse and will understand. Thank you.

Fighting this beast

It’s taken everything out of me

Crawling on my knees

Nervous system misfiring

Can’t complete

Some sentences without struggling

They always mock me

Like it’s stupidity

How much will it take to make me angry?!

Gaslight me about this disease

When they can’t understand the complexity

Ableist degrees

What a pathetic way to be

_______

Broken nerves girl

Trying to fight the world

Trying to be the pearl

That was a sight to see

Gave up their vision

Of what should be reality

Why is it so hard to accept the broken me?!

____

Fighting this fire

It’s taken years from me

Crying myself to sleep

Nervous system manufacturing

Bones crushed, skin weeps

Can’t imagine the intensity

Takes thoughts away

Until the imagination can’t see

Ableist comes to play

Tries to bury me

Sick of fighting the fight

Just let me be

I don’t walk around

Gaslighting people with disabilities

Just let us all be

Let us breathe.

She spins the spoon in her coffee, realizing how much time has passed. Realizing some dreams aren’t meant to last. They are swallowed into the abyss of the past, but remain deeply ingrained in our unconscious. Nothing can erase what has been done. No therapy, no medication, and no change of location. It will always make a return, into the world of dreams that turn into nightmares. Where the devil grabs at her feet, as all the angels swarm around him, and he finally admits defeat. Flashbacks, palpitations, and memories compete, for a chance to regain her face splattered on the concrete. But she eats the dirt now, becoming particles of dust, then breathed into the moonlit sky; they ask why? Why she always runs without saying goodbye? Why in moments of bliss, there is still fear in her eyes? How does she land on a bed of moss with all the cliffs around? Why she is thrown but never falls down? They should really ask why her voice never makes a sound? Who stole part of her sun that will never be found? What had been done to make it so hard to trust anyone?

She draws the bath again. The water cascades onto her broken limbs; for a moment there is relief. The scars carry stories she has yet to tell, but knows she has found the courage to speak. And the cycle continues: pain, fight, improve, decline. Pain, fight, improve, then decline. It could drive even the strongest soul into madness but not hers. She has sat inbetween the realms of turning into a ghost then coming back alive again. Fallen into the shadows, forgotten and left to the erosion of time. Fallen into a battle that never ends but always begins.

But she washes away the pain and tears of the day, as if they never existed each night. And the sun rises, the cycle awaits, but each smile she creates makes it worth it all. Each hand that reaches out to break her fall, makes it worth it all. Because even pain can teach us something; make us treasure the smallest gestures of a good soul, inhale the aroma of fresh coffee in the morning, and make us grateful for all the moments some people take for granted.

(This is especially for my fellow crps warriors out there). ❤

You took everything away

You took everything away

Now there’s nothing left to say

Cuz’ you took everything away

Had to go astray

Save myself that day

Pushed me down in the mud

Felt like a schoolgirl blinded by an illusional love

Just a fallen angel from above

Never to send a message from my dove

Oh, broken feet

Broken dreams

Crawling on my knees

It seems for centuries

Bruised beyond belief

Trauma induced leaps

Of faith

Only to end up in a heap

On the floor

Oh, on the floor

Two times

Three no more

I don’t even want to keep score

Just want to pretend to be the bore

You thought you knew

Make you think

You took everything away

You took everything away

Now I have nothing left to say

Cuz’ you tried to take everything away

But I still live another day

I still love while you lay

In darkness

Pretending you’ve seen the light.