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Miriam now writes a personal poem of her present day dilemma.  I bare my soul.  It may shock you.  But then maybe you will understand me better.  Writing about it heals the soul…my tattered soul.  I stand naked before you.

I remember now.

A little.

I had repressed it all.

Now I remember a little.

A small crack in the wall,

The thick wall that hides what happened.

I have to remember.

I can’t bear to think,

Let alone open a door to all the memories.

The panic has eased.

The depression has eased.

I even cried.

Slowly I heal.

I write the memories.

Slowly they will come back.

Then I will know.

What you did

To me as a child.


My babysitter.

Then I will know.

I read a book (The Courage to Heal) and in it they talked of memories.  Some block out everything and remember nothing but become over achievers or overly clean for example, some remember the bad experience but not that it hurt, some only remember a smell or the color of a shirt.  Everyone is different.  I have blocked it all out.  The book recommended an exercise where for ten minutes I wrote sentences that started with “I remember” and then for another ten minutes I wrote sentences that started with “I don’t remember”.  I did this and started to remember more than I thought I did.  Not much but a bit more.  The book also recommended to draw a floor plan of the house that it happened in.  I did this too.  I only remembered two rooms.  The room it happened in and the room where I tried to tell my mother about it.  She didn’t understand.  Were the memories real.  Maybe.  If not they were telling me something of what happened.

Then I sat down to write a poem.  Writing has been helping and I have been writing poems a lot lately.  The first poem was raw.  The anger came out.  It’s the first time that I feel anger.  I didn’t publish the poem but had my ritual cup of tea.  As I sat there trying to be calm a tear formed on my eyelid.  And I cried.  For that innocence lost.  I cried just a little.  Then I sat down and wrote this poem.  It was gentler and more appropriate for the internet.  For you I bare my soul just a little bit.  Maybe one day I can publish that first poem but not today.  It hurts too much.

I couldn’t write yesterday.  It was all too much.  So I write today.  I will try to keep posting on Mondays and Thursdays about anxiety and my personal journey to healing.

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