The Poetry Series: When Trauma Parallels Life

Yesterday I laid on a dock, and met all of me at the water. 

It was glorious, challenging, breath giving, and evoked a deep gratitude for all I am stepping into. 

It invited me to remember the privilege I hold now, through the demands of my insidious healings and healings to come, that allow me to both recognise and believe myself without living from the spaces of my past now. 

Life. Is. Hard. No matter what. Trauma will undoubtedly attach itself to these challenges as it implores us to feel and acknowledge the emotions and parts of ourselves left hidden within the traumas. Using the challenges and hurdles, relationships and beauty, emotionality and living breathing experiences of life to parallel the past, even if it doesn't make sense. In turn, it makes us feel insane. 

You are not insane. No matter what you feel as you walk through this, you are heard. I believe you. I understand. This thing we call "healing" is a demand of pain. No matter what the origin of that pain is, it will find its way to the surface of us (the emotional bucket) no matter what. 

When it does, we are then tasked and demanded to face it. Whether that's through survival adaptions like addictions (of all forms), that are a sign of resilience vs a place to shame....Or through many other avenues of personal, intimate, privilege birthed options/lack there of. 

How you heal, how you feel, how you see, if you speak, if you scream, when you shake, in your breaking...Is your freedom. 

This hellish healing is your freedom to make these horrible and unfair pains not just stagnant markers of warrior-ship, but tools to bring home the parts of you that experienced the first scars. 

It's not easy, and it never will be. However, it does become familiar. You learn, with privilege, how to recognise these demands of healing in your own unique ways that extends your autonomy back to you. 

Your life is yours again when you grieve for the lives you lost. 

I trust you. You are not alone. You don't have to explain it to me for me to extend my belief. It is yours. Right now. In this tight, shaky, honest, vulnerable inhale. I am listening. 

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