Brazen Brooks
Sep 6, 2018 · 2 min read

Is it safe to cry now?

I’ve never felt this lump in my throat go away. Not in 10 ten years. I’m always on edge it seems, there’s always something or someone that can set me off. I feel fragile, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells with myself.

“It’s okay to cry, let it out.” I wish people who said this knew that I know that it’s okay but it’s also ugly and scary I’m afraid I won’t come back if and when I cry.

“Everyone gets sad sometimes.”

Everyone has not been through what I’ve been put through. Everyone has not had to do what I’ve had to do to survive. Not everyone is constantly panicked, dissociated, distant, angry, sad and confused about what to do or where to go next.

I want you to see me. I want you to know what these salty tears in my eyes consist of and why. I want to tell everyone everything all the time. I want you to know, to understand.

When I left my foster home I thought to my kid self if it was safe to cry.

After my first sexual abuse as a kid when my siblings and I left that house where this boy five years older than me took turns abusing me and my little sister I asked myself if it was safe to cry.

When I was away from my mother, or better when she was away from me, when she was “out” doing everything but caring for me..I asked myself if it was safe to cry.

When repressed memory after memory started to come back to me while I was in high school, memories of childhood rape, molestation from different family members, friends of family and the gaslighting that followed if I spoke out as a child. Not being believed, having my words twisted. When those memories started to tower over me, started to demand my time and attention.

I asked myself if it was safe to cry.

I asked myself if I was allowed to to cry.

If I was even able to cry.

When I used relationships to cope, when I clung on to people I cared about and loved…

I asked myself if it was safe to cry around them.

I’ve been taught maybe not directly but indirectly that is never safe to cry. The people I’ve cried around have hurt me. The people I cried over hurt me.

The people who’ve promised it was safe to be “vulnerable” and to “let it out” hurt me.

If I never have a safe place to cry, then maybe I will be okay. Maybe I can go on like this maybe this is how it has to be.

When I break down and cry, it’s like I’ve never been lower, it’s like I can’t get back up, it’s like I’m seeing myself falling and being unable to catch me and pull me back up. I’ve never been lower. I’ve never been safe enough to let it all out. To process. To heal. To move on. To accept. To cry.

Brazen Brooks

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21/poet/writer/trauma survivor. Also, paying me for my work is nice too. Venmo:@Brazen-Brooks Squarecash:$BrazenHooks