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writer :: feminist :: mother

beast of burden

You know when you have more ideas than time? When your draft folder is starting to look as big as your actual posts folder?

I am kind of at that point right now.

September hit and it was back to school and board meetings and activities starting up and well, let's just say that the kids have been napping every day for the past week and a half and more often than not, I feel like I should be too!

And because when it rains it pours, I have also been dealing with a really wonderful RA flare that is just draining all kinds of energy from me like a VERY leaky faucet.

So what I am saying here is, that I have been one very tired and sore mama lately and it is taking a tremendous amount of effort (and caffeine)  to keep both my brain and my body working simultaneously.

And truth be told, as of late I have also been wrestling with some demons of my past that don't seem to want to stay hidden in the darker recesses of my mind anymore. It is not debilitating in any way, but I do feel like I have some unresolved issues that I need to deal with and it has to be soon. Trusting my children into a school system that failed me miserably has been a bigger step for me than I had originally thought and has brought a lot of these issues to the surface.

I want to write about these ugly, demon-y type things, really I do, I am just not sure if this is the place for them. Or if I can even do it. My thoughts about these events of my childhood only go so far and then I start to panic and SLAM THE DOOR shut in my brain. It is a defence mechanism and I know that, but hey, it has {kinda} worked for the past 27 years, why stop now, right?

Right.

Even now, as I am writing this, a very familiar ball of anxiety is starting to form in my gut and I can feel my pulse rate quicken. If I write it all down, then everyone is going to know. My husband is going to know. The mom's who read my blog and that I see at my kid's schools are going to know. MY mom is going to know. And I dont' know how they are going to react or feel about all of this.

Because here is the thing people, I want to talk details. I want to talk about what was said and done to a young, vulnerable child and how that sticks with you for the rest of your life. I don't want to just say the 'legal' words for these things. Molested, abused, assaulted. Because while that is what happens, it is not what is said by the person doing these things. And while the acts in and of themselves are damaging enough, it is the words that stick in your mind, that haunt you, that make you question everything about your body, that make you wonder what is WRONG with you for most of your teenage and adult life.

Are you all ready to hear this? Am I ready to write it?

I don't know.

I do know that the big ball of panic that is taking up residence in me feels like a huge tub stopper. I feel like if I pull it out, all of this will get  washed away in the drain and dumped in the sewer where it belongs. For almost 30 years I have been carrying around so much shame about these events of my childhood.

Perhaps it is about time I unload this particular burden...

Natasha~