My anchored mind.

anchor (1)I wish I could delete memories and feelings. Feelings are fed by memories. It is hard to move forward when memories are pulling you back.

As a child, I never imagined that my adult self would be sat writing memories of a little girl torn apart and broken by pain and fear. Yet here I am, sat on my sofa in my pyjamas, writing down the memories of my abuse ready for my next police interview.

I feel numb as I am sat replaying moments in my head over and over, to make sure that I don’t miss any detail.

The more I write down, the more interviews I have, the more I am remembering. Memories that I have kept locked away for so long that I didn’t know they existed. Not anymore though. Now they are starting to flood my mind.

Sometimes we carry things inside us that no one can see, not even ourselves. Those things hold us down like anchors. Sometimes they drown us.

One by one my memories of that horrible time called childhood are returning. Flooding my mind, they are holding me down like an anchor, drowning me.

I get bits of one memory and then bits of another. I have to make a list of the different bits of memories so that I can start to piece events together. I need to put them into some sort of order.

I feel sadness and pain as I read back over my list and realise that there are at least six different memories that I had locked away.

I feel scared because some of the things I am remembering are really bad. They are frightening me and I begin to understand why I blocked them out and locked them away for so long. However they have always been there. I just didn’t want to see them, to feel them.

They have always been there. They have been in my depression. They have been there every time I pick up a knife and take its blade to my skin. They are in my anxiety and in my PTSD.

I feel very alone as I sit here, writing each one down, knowing that no other person on this earth has the same memory as me. Well, except him, he does, but in his mind they are good memories. They do not anchor him down like they do me.

The worst part of holding in memories is not the pain. It is the loneliness. Memories need to be shared. Sometimes the pain and sadness needs to be shared.

I feel tired; the bad memories are tearing me apart. I don’t want to remember anymore. I am exhausted and I just want to sleep. Please can’t I just sleep and forget for a little while?

Sleep. Even sleep makes no difference. The nightmares come then; the memories that I don’t want to face in the day.

No matter how much I want to, I cannot forget now. The police need to know what happened. They need my memories, even the really awful ones that bring me guilt and shame.

I am sad as I think that maybe I need my memories too. Maybe I need my memories to finally be able to let go.

Maybe letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. Maybe letting go means remembering and talking. Maybe letting go means accepting and telling my story.

Tears dry, smiles fade, but memories last forever. Even the memories that have been locked away.

Maybe remembering will stop me sinking. Maybe remembering will stop me drowning.

Maybe remembering will finally release my anchor.

Thanks for reading.

7 thoughts on “My anchored mind.

  1. I wish I could tell it’s all going to be ok and everything will turn out just fine, but recovered memories, flashbacks, nightmares were the beginning of my discovery of PTSD and descent into black loneliness depression. I didn’t know back then what I know now, that I had a long road ahead of me, but that is part of healing and that’s the only way to recover (for me that is).

    Recovering from trauma (PTSD) brings with depression and you feel like you are on your own because no one really understands all that went on but you. If you weren’t validated or received empathy, well, that can just cause you to carry those feelings throughout your lifetime, possibly holding back what you wanted to achieve. The only way I have found to get on the road to healing is through therapy, but with an Experienced trauma therapist.

    I feel for you, and proud you are coming forward writing your emotions in this blog. Hugs, Deb xx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment Deb. It means a lot to me x

      I was diagnosed with PTSD at the latter end of last year. I suffer with nightmares, flashbacks and triggers. I also have severe depression and anxiety.

      I have a therapist and she does help…. but since starting the police process I am struggling a bit.

      I am hoping that sharing my story and the police process will help other survivors know they are not alone and will also help me heal in the process.

      I am scared…but trying to stay strong.

      Your support means a lot. Thank you x

      I hope you are doing ok xx

      Liked by 1 person

  2. That is the part that is so hard, that a little girl is attacked, then silenced, even shamed. Keeping it all in where it festers…that is too much. If I were hit by car, bones broken, lacerations, traumatized, I’d be listened too, sympathized with, given help, love and support. Not the case for me, and not usually for others.
    Releasing the words that defined my injuries and named the criminals did begin true healing, cleaning the wounds. It took till my late fifties for that to occur, all extracted and put into a book released to the winds, out of me. It took that long. It does not have to take that long for others, nor does it have to be the same way or path. I hope you can rid the shame that is not yours and feel unburdened by the crimes of others.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. Xx

      I hope that by starting to tell my story I will begin to heal….unfortunately I think I first have to completely accept what happened and how severe it was. That is what I struggle with because I am scared. It hurts. A lot.

      I was not listened to as a child…I am hoping that being listened to and believed now will help me heal also.

      This whole police process is very difficult but I am determined to get through it…if not for me then for others.

      Thank you for taking the time to read and comment. Your support means a lot. Xx

      Liked by 1 person

  3. It’s hard some days, really, really hard. And you’re right no one knows exactly what it’s like to have those memories but I hope you know we are walking along side you. Holding your hand and sending you strength.

    Almost a year ago a friend asked me if I could would I erase all those awful memories and I said no. There was a time when I would have said yes, but after coming to the other side of this journey, I have to say that I like the person I am now. I don’t know if I can say that about the person I was before I remembered. Those memories and all that followed helped to shape who I am. Which I’d like to think is who I was meant to be, the one the little girl dreamed she’d be when she grew up.

    Hugs Gemma.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Tracey. Xx I never looked it at that way…but you are right…this is making me a stronger, better person.

      I would never have started writing this blog….or found my talent (people seem to think I have one) for writing. I enjoy it now even though it is about a difficult subject.

      Right now I wish I could forget just for a little while…but I know that that just won’t happen.

      I have to remember so that I can begin to accept and move on…

      Thanks for your continued support xxx

      Liked by 1 person

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