#keythoughts

Me: *sighs a little annoyed and braces myself to check it out*

Me: .....

To be free is not up to me.

I’ve always been a slave.

To my rapist.

Who took me for years.

From childhood well into adulthood.

Only dying 6 months ago.

I miss him.

My therapist tells me I developed Stockholm Syndrome.

So even though he’s gone freedom is still not in my grasp.

My thoughts have held me captive now.

Thoughts, when mixed with emotion, make for strong chains.

I can rattle them and shake them.

But not escape.

Sharing a body with several minds leaves no room.

No “quiet thoughts”

No “meditation”

No calm. No peace. No alone time.

I…. we. Had developed a coping mechanism to deal with constantly being abused.

We split. To protect. To escape.

The only freedom we were allowed.

But I…. I was never free.

It was I who took the wrongdoings while the others escaped.

I protected her. And she’s gone.

She disappeared 11 years ago.

Guilty that I took the pain while she escaped.

But I don’t want her back.

She’d never get to live her life.

So stay away Amanda.

I’m sorry I fucked you up.

I was never meant to do so. I just didn’t want you to live with that.

I don’t want you to be the slave I am today.

The others worry about me.

Even my friends.

I just…

I can’t keep wishing for freedom.