Geoffrey By The Author

Finding Yourself & Giving Permission

Merton Barracks
The Shame Remains
Published in
2 min readApr 9, 2022

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Today, I would like to introduce you to Geoffrey.

He’s six years old, and I am very happy to discover that he and I share the same birthday.

Like me, Geoffrey is also a bit of a daydreamer, but I am pleased to say that his dreams are happy — by and large — and when the dark clouds drift in front of the sunshine that fills his heart, he hasn’t learned to hide it or pretend. Instead, he lets his feelings out and tells his friends, and when that happens, things always turn out better.

He’s good at reminding me of that. I think it’s why he and I are bound to be such friends.

I don’t like habits very much. When you do something automatically without even thinking about it, the things you do nearly always seem to be bad. If you’re not thinking and you’re not feeling, then the things you’re doing are like the ripples on the surface of water or the dancing of a leaf in the breeze. They can be mesmerizing and hold your attention. There’s maybe even a beauty to them, but they’re ultimately without meaning and lack depth, but they’re hard to ignore once they’ve caught your attention.

Silence. Eating. Drinking. Hiding. These can be habits. They’re some of the habits that have kept me distracted and mesmerized for much of my life in response to the dark clouds that drift in front of my heart.

Silence is the worst one of all. It never chases away the clouds, only the people who could have helped you see through them, and when you have that clarity of vision — to see through to the blue skies beyond — the spell is broken.

You don’t feel like hiding or smothering yourself in whatever painkilling salve you’ve come to depend on down the years.

Beat a drum — break the silence.

Shout and scream — break the silence.

Laugh out loud with a friend — break the silence.

Tell your story — break the silence.

Thank you for reminding me, Geoffrey. You will help me to keep remembering.

Merton Barracks doesn’t believe in recovery. Having spent most of his life concealing the sexual abuse experienced as a child at the hands of an elder sibling, but he does believe in survival.

Find out more about his journey here

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Merton Barracks
The Shame Remains

I'm meandering. Some fiction and some rantings with an intermingling of the things that keep me going, slow me down or make me cry.