Death Grip

 

Yes, this.  I have a death grip on the things that happened to me when I was 13.  I hold on to them for dear life.  They are mine, those things happened to me. I think a part of me holds on to them to prove that they happened that I was hurt no matter what all those people said or how they made me feel, it happened. I hold on to those things because I was told that I should.  Because those things don't happen to girls like me, because those things don't happen to a girl who is chubby and unpopular.  Those things don't happen to a girl who isn't pretty.  So, I hold on to them as proof that those terrible things happen, and they happened to me.  I hold on to them so that if someday someone asks why are you the way that you are? You're so weird, you're so strange what the fuck is wrong with you? Then then, I can open those places inside where the most ugly live and scream this; this is why I am the way that I am. Because I was left to deal with tragedy on my own. I want to say that I don't hold on to them on purpose.  There is a part of me that wished nothing more than to let them go. There is also a part of me that feels these things are precious and I have to take care of them.  I have to hold them, remember them so that those things never happen again.  There is a part of me that feels this is a story that must be held oh so carefully and in the utmost regard.  I think a part of me holds them out of respect for Spunky. 

She survived the things that everyone told her didn't happen, so I hold them for her.  I hold them because she lives there in those things, and I won't let her carry them alone.  Somehow if I let them go, she is left alone to suffer, and that is something i am not prepared to do. Somehow holding on to them keeps us both alive.  letting go feels like a death sentence for her, and and for me I would be acting like all those that shoved me to the side and pretended I didn't matter. Somehow, she will fall and keep falling if I let go like somehow we will forget and get lost in the darkness. That is something I am not prepared to do.  For the first time ever a few weeks ago, she actually heard that she was believed, all these years later she finally heard the words that she longed for. I could feel a certain release, a softening, an appreciation that for a short time she didn't have to carry it all.  I am not sure that you can understand what that does to a person.  To have something so life shattering happen to you, and everyone around you pretends that nothing happened, its soul crushing.  To have that happen changes who you are and you spend your entire life knowing the things that happened and not understanding why no one saw you.  A person spends their life holding on to it because what else is there to do when you live the memories whether you are awake or sleeping. All the people around you that should be listening, should be helping, caring and carrying the burden tell you you are not worth even that much.  You are so much less of a person that being gang raped for hour after hour after hour doesn't matter.  So I hold it for spunky, that I believe her and I know the things that happened. I remember their words and their hands.  I remember their names and the tiniest of tiny details as we fought for our life. So, yes, I have a death grip because to let go makes me one of the others who said those things don't happen to a girl to me.  I am not even sure that any of this makes sense, but I have to try and explain.  There are moments of time, I am not in 2023, I am 13 and back there in those moments and I am a bridge between here and there trying to hold on to spunky so that she holds on to life and can someday see the good things and feel the sun on her face. I am the bridge I am the girl that today is a teacher a mom, a grad student that can never forget that spunky little girl and the suffering she went through and not a single fucking person cared.  I am the bridge and I have to hold on until she is ready, until she can trust until she is safe to take those steps and come with me in the here and now so we can face the other side and then burn that fucking bridge to the ground. So yes, I want to let go but letting go is leaving spunky there in the unthinkable and like everyone else that left her alone during that time that is not something that I am willing to do. SO, I will hold on until she gains strength gains trust and makes the journey to be with me. What happened is mortifying and I will hold it until we can face it together. 

I heart your heart