Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

Fragile, Yet Strong. Or should it be, Strong, yet Fragile. Both apply to days, moments and seasons of my life. Surviving child abuse made me incredibly strong. I can survive almost anything. Pain is endured. Insurmountable odds are diminished, giving me a perpetual "I can do" attitude. I am able to bear up others, can handle crisis, can support teams, can dig in and do the hard, heavy, dirty work. I need little to sustain me. I know how to survive with minimal assistance. Independence, resilience, long-suffering. And still, Surviving child abuse has made me incredibly fragile. Unknown insignificant little things can pierce to my core and shatter me. I am left defenseless, exposed, incompetent. I am able to relate to hurting people, understand without words completely spoken. I feel and know and reason in randomness. I come along side, pray, and encourage because I have been broken. Delicate, sensitive, unpredictable. Two sides of the same coin - two f...

Reverberating Recoil Contemplative by Rainripple on deviantART Pacing rattles my nerves. Steps upon the floor-- Back and forth, Up and down. Heavily... In my soul, I sense a Reverberating pound. Unnerving me, I shake within. Unseen, unknown to those around. I do not want to control, Forcing others to compensate, To quietly tiptoe, Afraid to make a sound. Yet, within the string tightens. Each step plucks a shrilling chord. Inward, I recoil. Oh, how trauma preconditions me. The tremors cannot be ignored. Tense, I clench my jaw, Hoping, waiting, breath. Once again I endure. He walked out and shut the door. Finally, I release. I sense relief. Anxious - no more.