I have unable to write for a couple of weeks, instead I am surrounded by trauma and nightmares.

So I thought I would write my personal legacy from prostitution – or a close study of living inside trauma.

I will trace how it affects my body, mind and spirit. I will try to be as truthful as I can, whilst at the same time fighting my self-censorship that wants to protect my essence.

I do not one way to reach into this unspeakable part of me, only I know several ways,. some appearing opposite to each.

One way is listening to my spirit-animals – these are not animals, but the silent parts of my Self that has little or no expression.

These spirit-animals carry memories I had to block out.

These spirit-animals hold pain, terror and confusion that one human cannot bare alone.

And these spirit-animals have all the tears, I thought I had lost as I learnt to never cry in front of abusers.

I have nine spirit-animals – dragon, snake, little girl, mermaid, teenager, tiger, horse, eagle and baby.

The dragon carries my grief, my sense of loss, my tears and holds them safe. The dragon hold my loneliness.

The snake will hold my ability to shred my past by placing a new face on who I am. The snake holds the strength to be patience with striking back at all my abusers.

The little girl is lost and searching for love without consequences. The little girl is too trustworthy, blocking all memories of being betrayed.

The mermaid is the mirror-image of the little girl, the mermaid is living in a world with no adults/abusers. The mermaid refuses to have memories of why she need to disappear, only faint body memories of pain and terror.

The teenager is nihilistic, full of rage and frustration. The teenager throws hope onto the trash-heap.

The tiger is wanting a mother, as it wanders alone in a world that makes no sense. The tiger has too much love, at the same it will attacks any who see its vulnerability.

The horse needs freedom and never to be told who and what she is. The horse will run away when afraid or too confused by memories, pain or knowledge of her past.

The eagle will be on constant alert for danger, and will destroyed all those who choose to abuse with pin-point accuracy. The eagle will only attack the guilty and those who have no conscience, never the innocent.

The baby was the part of me that was unharmed. The part of me that just needed love and hope.

As I said, I have many ways of tracing my trauma – another is my personal body map

I start with my head/brain. The place where all memories are stored – some coming out in nightmares, some coming out as pain, some hiding deep in me scared to know they ever happened.

My head that cannot have headaches without knowing the violence of prostitution, or how hard it is to remember how to be fully human.

I go on to my mouth and throat – what I cannot swallow without memories of endless penises and objects blocking my route to breathing.

I still taste that cold terror, that sperm poisoning my way back into hope.

I still choke, as I attempt to forget.

I go to arms and hands – hands touching flesh that is determined to humiliate and harm my own flesh.

Arms made to hug punters who pretend they care – only to smash, push, grab, and tore apart any sense that I matter as a human.

I go to my stomach – place of decades of sickness as punters pour their porn-hate and terror into me.

I go to my vagina – a place without a sacred space, a place for punters to conquer, a place that is used out but wanting to be re-born.

I go to my anus – the place that still hold so much terror and silences.

My anus still bleeds when trauma re-enter my body.

My anus had too many, so many punters attacking it – it was a war-zone.

I am still scared to go to the toilet or to lay on my back when asleep.

And I go to legs and feet – which never were able to run away – so now get restless if even a hint of being trapped occurs.

Those are two ways I reach in the silence of trauma.

I did not write to make complete sense – but to give some opening to understanding trauma on different levels.

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