Today I got the trauma of remembering GFE and how young I was when I became dead enough to become a whore.
Trauma is the shock of knowing what makes you sick, what put you into terror, what degradation had been part of you – knowing that was a reality that you lived through.
Trauma comes from a sickness lying dormant in your stomach, it the headaches that no painkiller can cure.
Trauma is when your eyesight is blurred and refusing to see a real world – but the optician finds nothing wrong.
Trauma is lying in being raped over an over and over, knowing you are alone in the room.
Trauma is thinking you are worth nothing, that others have it much worse than you.
Trauma is shutting your eyes and being in rooms, being behind pubs, being in hotels rooms, being at parties – always that moment struck in time before he will sexually torture you.
Trauma is the screaming of no, and on voice comes out.
Trauma is the need to fuck for money again, to be degraded, to be a fuck-doll – anything not to think any more.
Trauma is the war against self-harming, not getting drunk, not cutting up, not going out late at night to wander round dangerous parts of the city.
Trauma is learning to comfort yourself by any means.
Trauma is having the courage to reach out to friends.
Trauma is learning that you can cry.
Trauma is allowing yourself to prayer.
I speak of trauma and hope other will reach out to me and all brave survivors of the sex trade.