A story to tell – Shadows of me.

Just relaxingThis is the true account and excerpts of a womans life. She has asked that certain facts be changed like her name and personal details so as to protect her family and friends. I am not a writer, so please discount the numerous errors you will find these writings. So here it begins.

Shadows of Me..

Hi my name is Gabrielle, im not sure how to begin but the desire to tell my story has been a long time coming. It is not to gain recognition or have anyone feel sorry for me or offer advice. I just want to let out the hidden hurts, the secrets of who I am and be free knowing that there is no longer any reason for me to feel prisoner in a world of silence that has consumed me since I was a little girl. I may go off track and you may get lost along the way of which stage I am at in my life but the truth is I just have to let it out.

It is hard to pinpoint what the real issue is with me. Is it the lack of feeling love, we’ll maybe it’s not really knowing what love feels like. To love or be loved, both fall in the same category for me. My childhood, from an early age is blank. I have glimpses of memories that have stayed with me for reasons I am not sure of. Then there is a gap, a span of years that have been lost. Even in my adult years from about 18 onwards I have massive blank spaces in my life. I do not recall a trauma as such that could erase such a huge part of my life. But through much research, trauma is a major contributor of memory loss, so i assume that is what has happened to me.

What did I do to feel loved. I stole, lied, made believe and told fantasy stories just to fit in. Reality for me was not a world I wanted to live in. I was a prisoner in my mind, my body, around my family and friends. There was only silence. Shadows of who I was. Who am I?
I am a Shadow! A shadow of other peoples personalities. What you liked, I liked. I became who ever you wanted me to be.

I was taught as young as ten to lie. Because if you told the truth you would get hurt. The truth is suppose to be a good thing, or so I was thought. But I soon learnt that emotional truth such as feelings or joy was not the truth that was expected. The beatings were sometimes so harsh, i just wanted to die, because they were not just physical but emotional. “you are evil, you are trash, you are stupic, you are dumb, you are worthless”, and it went on and on. I mean seriously, I was a kid. How could I be any of those things?
I remember praying to this God i was told to believe in to please let me just be happy. Every night I cried as a little girl filled with fear of what tomorrow would bring. This fear resulted in me wetting the bed till I was in my teens. This too I had to hide because the embarrassment would have been made public to all the family so as to put fear into me to not do it anymore. Well guess what, it didn’t work.
I was a sad, lonely, afraid, and completely alone little girl. There was no friend or confidant for me to beg for help. I mean he saw it, but he closed his eyes to it all. He justified it in way I still don’t understand. Why didn’t he protect his little girl?

To be continued,

~Jean R~

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