My blog is about NOT MY SECRET. I put it all out there. Everything. Everything that has happened to me. Every detail. Everything in my family and my life that has occurred after the abuse. I have felt such a strong urge to break the stigma of silence in abuse that I started this raw honest blog about abuse. Even about me personally. My health. I mean look at this. This is no pretentious facebook bullshit pretty picture world. Yes, I do post pictures that are pretty, but life is not always pretty and so I post what is real. So this is my face. It is not pretty. My eye swelled closed. I got hives all over the side of my face. We have no idea why. I went into a restaurant. Came home. And this. I honestly didn’t even realize my eye was closing until my daughter stuffed a claritin down my mouth and said OMG mom you look scary bad like epipen bad. I will gladly show my less than pretty face and reaction as these things are part of my day to day frustrations and I am not ashamed to show the real me.
The PTSD is in a completely different realm of real and raw though. I wish I could divulge the honest to God truth. But that truth, the depths and magnitude of the PTSD is just revealed to God. I cannot discuss this secret. It is my only one. The diagnosis is not a secret. The details of the experiences of the PTSD moments are. I have shared some PTSD moments, but because, I am married, and I have a daughter my PTSD depth is a secret. Their friends and coworkers can read about my sexual abuse because it had nothing to do with me. They can every read about the choices I made after because those also did not have to do with me. Those were all rooted in abuse. I have no shame in those things. But my mental health…there is so much judgment out there on mental health issues. The real truth, unfortunately, has to stay a secret with me. It is a sad but real truth of mental health. The stigma is real. The judgment is real. The repercussions and ramifications of my truth could affect others in my family. So I have to keep them to myself. Shit I am sure my extended abandoning family members are reading this right now saying, “yep, she’s got problems, and that is why she wrote that letter.” My stupid ass parents will always find some reason to blame me for their faults. This is just fuel for their fire. And I find that sad. It is a part of me that I still have shame over. Even though it is completely out of my control. I know that it would affect others in my family negatively by insensitive ignorant people. So I have no one to share these day to day experiences with. I wish I did. Secrets damage the soul. But my husband and daughter are important to me. They don’t need people caling me “crazy”. They can handle “oh your mom is an abuse survivor,” but why put them through the judgments of the real ramifications of abuse and what it has done to my mind. So although my blog is about NOT MY SECRET> I suppose we all have a few that must remain hidden. Not for ourselves. Bot for the rest of the world who stands in judgment and cannot handle the truth in its purity. So once again. A secret has made me alone in my suffering. But this time it is my own choice. Not one put upon me. I hope I am doing the right thing.