Somehow, Like A Tree

I have been rapidly and painfully peeling back layer after layer of hurt and baggage from my heart lately. Most days I wonder if I'll ever reach the bottom of all this scar tissue.

I don't talk about it a lot but when I do I feel all sweaty and shaky about it, because I'm always a little afraid that the people I talk to will secretly agree with those abusive words.

So I make a joke.

Because honestly when I speak these things out they sound so absolutely ridiculous.
It sounds so absolutely ridiculous to me that adults that are supposed to take care of kids and protect them are so cold and calloused.

Sometimes people joke back, sometimes they ask me why I just can't move on, sometimes they tell me I just need to not think about it.
I know they mean well because I can see relationships through mostly grown up eyes now.
I can even see these hateful women through mostly grown up eyes. I understand the concept of generational sin and abuse cycles and I understand that hurt people hurt people.

But I still feel it all through a kids heart.

When kids don't understand what's happening they don't ask for clarification, often they don't even know they can. So they fill in the blanks with what they think might be happening which is often much scarier than the truth. They come up with views of the world that are untrue and severely blurred by the interactions they have with adults they should be able to trust.

Sometimes when kids grow up they can change their minds (literally change their brains). Other times the lenses they built their view of world through adhere in what seems to be a permanent way and they continue to see the world as a scary and unsafe place filled with words that slice and dice.

It has taken a lot of work for me to realize that the way I see the world has been deeply affected by these adults, that the way I see myself has been molded by the words they cut me with.

Now it's taking even more work to rebuild the lens through which I view the world and myself. There are a lot of days I forget and lapse into the comfort of drive thru's and self-loathing.

But I'm working on it, even when I feel mired in the bitter unfairness of it all.

 Sometimes I can't move my feet it seems
As if I'm stuck in the ground somehow like a tree
As if I can't even breathe
Oh, and my screams come whispering out

As if nobody can even see me
Like a ghost, sometimes I can't see myself
- "If I Had it All" DMB