Crying Into Some Emptiness

I woke into tears today.

Maybe that is what Boxing Day is about, the hangover from the year.

Yes, I have had many joys this year – but always shadowed by grief and ongoing trauma.

Now, I want to face my grief, pain and a great deal of confusion. I do not know where I going with this, I am sure I am repeating myself. All I can say is this where I am at now.

I really miss Dad and Judy. I miss how joyful they make Christmas and my birthday.

As I write this, I feel I will cry again.

They give me love, when I thought I was nothing but dirt, I had their love.

Every Christmas I have the shadows of memories of violence and hate.

I have memories of Christmases inside my mother’s family.

These were Christmases were I learnt to kill emotions, learnt to dream of death and learnt to smile despite it all.

I associated Christmas with being laugh at for not being able to kill myself, Christmas was being fingered by my stepdad as he laid out the stocking or as I try to eat turkey, Christmas was always his flash presents, always his tongue down my throat.

I learnt to hate Christmas because he would not go away.

I had Christmas where I was date-raped. Rapes that nearly killed me, but I lived.

I was left frozen in my heart. I was becoming the living dead.

And, when I prostituted, Christmas meant nothing, well everything meant nothing.

When I was prostituted I was nothing.

Christmas being prostituted was the normal torture, the normal rapes, the normal brainwashing, the normal not caring, the normal not knowing I had a body, the normal fitting into the sex trade.

Christmas was just a slow time, but it was no escape.

Christmas was my death.

Than after a scream from the middle of my stomach, after a reaching into the emptiness, I made the choice to give myself  back Christmas.

I wanted that comfort, I wanted to have joy as part of me, I wanted to remember there was innocence, I needed Christmas because by heck I deserved it.

So, I feel no guilt enjoying Christmas, for it’s my time now.

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