Tally Marks

Yes if you only knew the number of times that my body and soul survived rape after brutal rape; so much violation before I had a fighting chance at life. My body was a battleground and  would be covered in tally marks from head to toe with close to no space in between.  This was just my life. Every inch of my soul inside and out would be covered in such evilness.  Here it is in black and white.So wonder why I am quiet, why I am the way that I am. Why I watch everything, why I do things differently, why I feel and care just a little bit more for others in this life. These tally marks are the reason why. I never want another living soul to feel and experience the lonesomeness that I have had to experience. This is what there is; a sad in my soul that often goes beyond words, and is so complete and deep, that I can not even comprehend it myself.  This is why. Because I never knew at any day and time, if I was really going to make it. I knew that I had to much to do so I survived and refused to let them win, but the cost to me was unimaginable. Along the way I did the things I had to do to breathe for another day. I smiled along the way, I tried to do normal things, fit in and pretend that the damage doesn't exist. I tried so hard.  With this many marks all over you , it makes a person different , it makes a person fatally flawed and changes them forever. All the try in the world can not undo what was done.

The problem is in the scars that are left behind. The things I can't forget, the memories that remain pictures forever ingrained in my mind. The yellow comforter, the light in the hall, that looming man above me. That bright playground picture on the wall , that your mind goes to and tries to hide behind the rocks. The fear of getting under the covers maybe just maybe if I didn't make any wrinkles in the covers I wouldn't be hurt that night, Maybe I would be invisible and he wouldn't want to unmake the bed.  The fear of knowing what was going to happen and knowing how my body would hurt.  Being worried about hiding the evidence; sneaking to the trash outside to throw away the bloody underwear. Even worrying about the squeaky door what would be the excuse I would have to give, why was I going outside?  I can still  remember the cold  on my feet, and just how fast that my heart was racing.  I felt as if I was the one who had done something so wrong.  There are some pictures that remain whether my eyes are open or closed.  Sometimes I feel the memories in my bones,  I feel their actual weight, I feel the moments that I went away I remember that very last moment and just like that the lights go out. There are times its a feeling that I can't explain and I just want to get as far away from the feeling as possible. Other times I am enveloped, and the tears flow.  Sometimes the nightmares are so vivid that I wake up fighting, hitting my own legs, scratching my arms. I wake up looking for a safe place only to realize I am 45 and I am in my own safe bed. The nightmares like that, often take hours to get away from, sometimes a day or two.  Sometimes in my mind there will be a tally mark on repeat and I can't find my way out .  I repeat what happened thinking if I had done this or that, I could have saved myself this one time. So often the tally marks blend into each other, just another rape just another intrusion in sleep, such a toll on a little girl.  It happens, clean up and go back to bed.  A day in the life. Its the ones that stand out , where every detail burns in my heart and soul that spin in my mind wanting them to be nicer, wishing I was heard, wanting someone to save me.

I know that there is no "saving me" I do,  there is no magic wand.  There is no one thing that will make all my battle pieces fall into place. I am just fighting, often clawing my way back, day by day, sometimes hour by hour.  I keep writing, keep breathing and keep fighting.  I can win over most of the tally marks, believing that I was not at fault,knowing that there was nothing I could do, I was just a little girl. There was nothing else that I could have done as a young girl. There are still often times, I wonder if I will find that true joy, just because I deserve to have it, that is more of a struggle than you would think.  My goal in this life is to win over them all, and find that joy for myself and others. Some days, I will win, some days I will struggle but never will I stop trying. The nightmares and memories may win some days but they are less than before and I am stronger than yesterday.

I heart your heart