Heartstrings

Snippet 8 - Strong, Brave, Beautiful

 

I only remember the beginning and the end.

The middle is a black hole. And sometimes I do wonder what exactly happened to mini-me that she just decided to shut everything down. At what point did mini-me say she couldn't deal with it anymore?

Then, I realize, I already know.

I remember the beginning and the end - the hands that touched my chest without me knowing how wrong it was and the hands that ripped my innocence without me knowing how cruel it was.

Knowing yet not remembering certain moments is haunting. Not remembering yet still feeling the hands on my skin is a heavyweight to carry.

I was just a child. It happened for years, and I had no power to stop it. When you're a kid, and someone is abusing you sexually, you don't know at first how terrible it actually is. You do have a feeling that something is wrong because you see the other kids around you, and you notice that they are different from you. But it's only as you grow up, you realize how cruel and damaging it actually is.

It was only until I started to get the help that I realized I got a lot of problems. I was diagnosed with PTSD, and it triggered anxiety, depression, two dissociative disorders: amnesia and depersonalization, as well as alexithymia. I still struggle with depersonalization dissociative disorder that basically makes you feel disconnected from your own body and alexithymia that makes it hard to recognize your own emotions and others.

However, before I got help, it was terrible. After my neighbor finally left, I was just there. I was a pile of confusion because my life and experiences were completely different from everyone around me. I was a teenager, and I was a mess. My emotions just shut down. I was like a mannequin—so inhuman despite looking like one.

Living like that was terrible.

And I had to apologize to so many people for something that was done to me. I had to apologize for not showing sympathy. I had to apologize for flinching away from people. I had to apologize for being me.

There was a time in my high school where this girl got so close to me; I flinched back. I guess I made this scared facial expression despite that I couldn't recognize that I was scared. I kid you not; I had to bow down my head and apologize because she was making the biggest deal about it. She said I offended her.

If there are people flinching away from you, don't take it the wrong way. There are people out there that are trying to protect themselves because they went through terrible things, and moving away is a natural reaction.

After many years of living in silence, I reached a point where I was thinking of ending it. I was suffocating in my own house. I could not deal with people anymore. The weight of my body was so overwhelming. And when I grabbed a knife, I thought about my family.

I couldn't do it.

Around that time, fortunately, I heard that my high school had a therapy program. So I went. But because I was a minor back then, my parents had to sign papers. I lied and told them it was a syllabus (perfect timing, right?), and of course, they believed me since back then, their English was weaker.

The moment I stepped into that room— I cannot put it into words. I don't think there's an actual word to describe how I felt at that moment. But it was like everything just cracked.

For the first time in years, I broke down crying. I couldn't speak properly. I was confused because I felt this tremendous pain that I hadn't felt in so long. I was feeling emotions. I was feeling so much pain. I spent two hours crying. I couldn't speak to her.