**TRIGGER WARNING!!!!****

Possible trigger warning. ⚠️

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ABUSE AND PTSD: BUTTERFLY WITH BROKEN WINGS

 Some children play. Others are toys made by and used by the adults.

My feeble young mind could never understand the bruises. Were they a mark of pride or a badge of shame? Purple, blue, black. There were days I could not remember. Each kick and punch felt more intense than the last. I had cried so many times I forgot what it felt like to laugh. She would tell me she loved after each beating and that she was helping me by hurting me. God would understand. But I didn’t understand.

 

Sometimes she would scratch me, some would scar but some did not. I hated her so much yet I loved her a lot. Our house was very barren so when I was alone I watched anime most of the time on a chunky black TV that would crackle with static sometimes. The smell of alcohol and takeout flooded in through the backdoor from the restaurant down the street. Most of the time the fridge had very little inside bar some eggs and milk. I was allergic to milk and I could not reach the stove. Most of the time with the money I found laying around I would order Italian or Chinese. There were nights I dreamed of running away but stopped after several failed attempts. My teachers never asked me about the marks they cared more about our test scores. Sometimes, she would mock me in my dreams but at least there I could blast her into another dimension; reality was not quite as sweet. This had went on for a few years before she died of an overdose. I spent the rest of my childhood living with my aunt and got therapy. When I became older I understood more. She was sick in her mind and she inflicted it upon me as a result. Her parents had done the same to her and her sister but my aunt left and became a better person. My mom never really healed and my father leaving broke what little decency she had left. I forgive her and no matter what comes my way I can survive because I survived her.

 A woman’s body is not an opportunity. Her smile is not an invitation.

As a teenage girl all I wanted to do was please and live up to expectation. When I had a boyfriend I thought It was expected to do everything he wanted of me. At first, hand holding and snuggling sufficed but after a while he began kissing me more. He would kiss me in places I felt were indecent to be kissed or touched in public. I expressed my displeasure but he would dismiss it as me being stressed out or touchy over nothing. Despite having a bad feeling over his nonchalant attitude we continued dating. One weekend my relatives were out of town and I told my boyfriend that I had some more shifts at work so we can reschedule our date to next week. The truth was I just wanted time to myself but I did not want to hurt his feelings. It was Saturday, I had just returned home from Walmart after going on a food haul. I decided to clean myself up and then order some Pizza.

 I had just gotten out of the shower. My strands of coffee were clinging to my neck and shoulders. I grasped a comb from the sink and began brushing my hair when I felt two arms around my waist. I jumped  as I looked to see my boyfriends green eyes looking incredibility dilated. He smelt like sulphur and I retched trying to push him away. He growled and yanked off my towel. I yelled at him, I begged as he tried to grab my waist. His nails pierced my skin as blood flowed from my pores. He pushed his body onto me thrusting me against the sink. I yelped at my tailbone smacked off of the hard porcelain. His lips nipped and licked my ear as I was beating my hands onto his chest, I screamed crying and he punched the mirror behind me as he wrapped his hand around my throat. I grasped at it as I felt his erection pushing against my thigh from his Jeans. I smacked it with my knee and he hissed loosening his grip. I managed to land a punch on his left cheek as he stumbled and slipped onto the wet floor. I fell as I moved away and he grabbed my ankle squeezing it and shrieking at me. He leaned over and bite my leg as I grasped onto the sink and kicked him in the face breaking his nose. He let go of me and I rushed toward the busted mirror as I felt my chest constrict even harder. I clutched onto the biggest piece of glass and stabbed him in his right shoulder barely missing his neck. He groaned before rushing out of the room. A mixture of water and blood dripped from my body onto the floor. Trembling fingers dropped the glass as I fell to my knees and scooted over to the toilet to vomit. I raised my head and took a breath. Shattered. My whole world was gone. I bawled my heart out upon the floor. His fingerprints still pressed into my skin that I craved to burn off with bleach. My body seemed so alien to me now. The marks on my thighs and the constant urge to retch even though there was nothing left. The person I loved just tried to rape me. I cried for the rest of the night crawled upon the floor. Cold and alone.

TAKEAWAY

Abuse and PTSD are some of the most damaging things we can experience as human beings. It depletes you mentally, spiritually and physically. As a survivor I can tell you that it gets better with time, one day you will feel like a cloud has lifted. You may never forget but forgiving is the first step to healing. Forgive yourself, the person that did it and the circumstance because once that bad energy is gone it makes room for more positive energy. Remember there are professionals you can reach out to and if you know anyone experiencing abuse or abusing then please inform the authorities – you could be the difference between a survivor and a statistic.

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