Since writing Seth via email, expressing what bubbled up needing to be said, thoughts of him encumbered with a vague feeling of wrongness drift about and inside me. Should a friendlier note be sent, or perhaps a Happy Thanksgiving card by snail mail?

Not wanting to focus on him as he has little to do with my life today, thoughts continue to come back to him clouded with feelings of wrongness. Of course feelings would sway that way as that has been the taboo. Families are adept at keeping a survivor shut down.

This time around it isn’t as severe, nowhere as severe, because the last go-around caused me to believe a heart attack was occurring which included an ambulance to a one night hospital stay in the observation wing. 

It is shadows of the past when my voice was locked down tight along with my feelings that were as much as mystery to me as they were to anyone else. A relationship with anyone from that group where my needs are respected and heard is not going to occur. Accepting that fact must be faced once again. 

Reading this from another blog this morning reminded me of the seriousness of remaining firm in my needs. My memories may not be denied outright, but there are countless other ways just as debilitating. 

One of the worst pains suffered by survivors who remember their abuse is exclusion by their family, who deny the truth of their memories.”

~John Backus, Sc.D., and Barbara Una Stannard, Ph.D.

And so the day goes on. Today Shane and his family come to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. A turkey is ready to go in the oven, along with all the fixings including a cold cider punch, and pecan pie.

It is OK, and a part of life, to make room for both joy and pain.

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