truth

I had an epiphany Thursday morning that shook me at my core. It was the realization that all the pain I have experienced has been a blessing. To know deep down that nothing is able to stop me short of death. Having stood in death’s doorway so many times and able to return to this ethereal reality. To know how many bruises it takes to start breaking. I’ve been awakened from the fallacy of a safe and secure life that others fight to hold tight to until their end days. I have been blessed with an awakening that others dream about but never get to experience. Others will never understand my tolerance for what they may see as self-torture.
My family are my closest confidants because we share a collection of experiences varied by viewpoints. I have a tattoo in Latin that says “brothers to infinity” because we are bonded by the reality that society disregards those with invisible scars. We had PTSD before it was was a diagnosis that turned into a money-making commodity for those lucky enough not to know it’s true effects.

Every month I get an email from the state of Wisconsin’s DHS that continually headlines that what I went through as a child is going to have continued effects on my health and well-being in negative ways. It ignores the positives of surviving such struggles. It focuses on a dependency of the system and instead triggers it’s readers. What if instead of continuing to victimize those who have experienced trauma, we turn them into leaders and educators? Shaping trauma-informed care to more than bracelet-wearing awareness campaigns for those already aware?

I have come to know and understand my strengths and weaknesses. I don’t have a gift for the gab. And that may put limits on me in a gab’s world. I know they are only short-term limits though. The people that win in life run the marathon. I look for kindred spirits and we connect on different wavelengths. I have seen how sharing our raw, honest emotions and experiences leave us relatable rather than vulnerable. I enjoy showing others how much I care rather than telling them. I pick up on the things they whisper, the things they let out when they think no one is listening or watching; that’s why I know everything.