That was a new word for me in therapy on Friday. My T seems to think it is fitting and I think he may be right.
There was no escaping the abuse, there was never another option for me. Even when everyone else could see an open door, there was no exit for me. I was a prisoner even without restraint. I was enslaved by fear, trapped by his grooming; I may as well have been in chains.
I had resided myself to my fate, even seemingly complicit in my despair. I was shackled to him and I’ve been fighting for release ever since.
I have not known freedom for as long as I can remember. Freedom was just a word that other people used, it never had any meaning for me. My life was his, my actions a result of his own. Like dark shadows over my life, those imprints of his control still remain. So I work tirelessly to scrub away those marks in order to free myself from his grooming and control.
And you know what? It’s working! I am getting closer to the end. I have tasted that freedom in recent months and let me tell you, it is exhilarating.
You see, it is like he has remained with me all the years. It is as if his weight is still on my chest, crushing my lungs, just like back then. Every breath I have taken since, laboured; each inhalation, an effort and that effort is exhausting. It has been such a battle not to give in. That has been my fight everyday for over sixteen years.
But as I reconnect with my past and work to over come the numbness that has sustained me for all this time, I am learning how to feel all that is buried within me. And with every single second of agony I allow, I find there are true moments (no matter how fleeting) where the enormous pressure is lifting and I can breathe at last.
With every uninhibited breath I am closer to my freedom. A Freedom to feel, a freedom to think, a freedom to choose and freedom to be.
the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants.
the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved.