all shall fade.
Aug. 2nd, 2023 06:02 pmI keep ending up at mom's memorial bench.
It's so unsettling, at times, to realize that there would be no memorial to her at all, if I hadn't purchased and created one, myself.
(I'm certain no one will do the same for me, but it doesn't matter. at all.)
Wore myself out biking. It's kind of self-destructive, the ferocity with which I push myself, physically.
I don't know how to process my trauma.
I realized today, totally out of nowhere, that the route I take up Rocky Butte takes me right directly past the house that I was sexually molested in the first time, when I was eight years old.
Why do I do that to myself?
I saw a post today about how traumatized children have memory gaps in their childhood. There is so much I don't remember. So much buried and hidden away.
If anyone ever wonders why I act so crazy.
I shouldn't be here at all.
To be disowned by my mom after losing my dad at such a young age, after losing my grandparents as an adolescent, the two who were still alive when I was around, anyway - it's not something I will ever heal from.
I'm so grateful to have landed somewhere soft, for now. It will always feel tenuous and temporary.

my dad always loved me fiercely. I am so grateful for that. He made me feel cherished, constantly. He never hurt me. (There was necessary discipline in the form of a stern voice and corrections, there was sometimes aggressive teasing, but never any insults.) I think he's the reason I can endure. His endless love.
It's so unsettling, at times, to realize that there would be no memorial to her at all, if I hadn't purchased and created one, myself.
(I'm certain no one will do the same for me, but it doesn't matter. at all.)
Wore myself out biking. It's kind of self-destructive, the ferocity with which I push myself, physically.
I don't know how to process my trauma.
I realized today, totally out of nowhere, that the route I take up Rocky Butte takes me right directly past the house that I was sexually molested in the first time, when I was eight years old.
Why do I do that to myself?
I saw a post today about how traumatized children have memory gaps in their childhood. There is so much I don't remember. So much buried and hidden away.
If anyone ever wonders why I act so crazy.
I shouldn't be here at all.
To be disowned by my mom after losing my dad at such a young age, after losing my grandparents as an adolescent, the two who were still alive when I was around, anyway - it's not something I will ever heal from.
I'm so grateful to have landed somewhere soft, for now. It will always feel tenuous and temporary.
my dad always loved me fiercely. I am so grateful for that. He made me feel cherished, constantly. He never hurt me. (There was necessary discipline in the form of a stern voice and corrections, there was sometimes aggressive teasing, but never any insults.) I think he's the reason I can endure. His endless love.