Original Instagram Post – June 13, 2019
Recovering from trauma takes a time and effort I’ve never been able to commit to, mostly convinced I’m strong enough to push through it on my own. Yesterday as a man whose advances I had politely rejected over the years in my safe place of work, ran to catch up to me as I was walking through my neighborhood, I was so severely triggered I’m enraged just thinking about it. Logically I know he was just excited to see me and looking to say hello, but I was instantaneously transported back to times, places, and people who meant me harm.
To the makeshift mustachioed babysitter, who put his hands on me and took things I’ll never recover.
To the crazy classmate who pushed me into the lockers and violently grabbed at my breasts.
To the creepy old man who tried to assault me as I took his measurements in the fitting room.
To the drunk concert-goer who pinned my body to his as he dry-humped me in a sea of oblivious people.
To the man who grabbed me from behind, dragging me off the subway after stalking me through two boroughs.
For a few moments, it was then, and I was once again that girl. Visceral waves of fear, panic, and dread flooded through me. Thankfully I had spotted him from far enough away that I had enough time to get my brother on the phone, and urged him out of the house before the guy caught up to me and I suffered a full lack of cognitive control. I find it both fascinating and horrifying how quickly we can slip into the past. And while I feel like my inner peace was violated, I can’t help but feel like it was a harrowing reminder that as much as I try to will it into existence, I’m not yet okay. And that’s okay.
#RealTalk #TheLameChickWrites #TBT #MentalHealth #MentalHealthAwareness #Depression #Anxiety #Trauma #Survivor #Fighter #GratefulHeart #TiredSoul #ThisIs37 #Healing
