I remember vividly the first time someone used the word 'survivor' about me. Skyfox typed it in a message to me, and as I read the message, I was drawn back to that word. I stared at it, perplexed, and somewhat awed. "Survivor" is a powerful word, one that speaks of overcoming tremendous hardship. I thought, 'well, that was nice of him to say so, but the word was not meant for me; it belonged to people who survived real pain, real strife; it was not applicable to silly little things that I make way too big a deal out of.
But my thinking was not an accurate reflection of reality. Sure,
others may have had experiences more horrific, more demeaning or
dehumanizing. But what happened to me was_ outside the realm of
what should be allowed to happen; it was brutal and ugly and
torturous. I survived a betrayal of the fundamental relationship
in the life of a child: the relationship with a parent.
I have been to hell, and lived on to tell the tale.
For that, I am a Survivor.
Here are some of my stories.
They contain graphic descriptions of violence.
They contain offensive language.
They may be triggers; please keep yourself safe if and when you read them.
And always remember to breathe.
Wealthy the spirit that knows its own flight.
Stealthy the hunter who slays his own fright.
Blessed the traveler who journeys the length of the light.