Learning From Echoes
The thing about living through abuse, especially its public forms, is that after you get out, you start the process of surviving the memories of other people. You have to live through the echoes of the things you couldn’t hear.
You remember the ones who saw you suffer & never said a word. You remember the smiles that looked like smirks (even if they weren’t). You think of the times they wished you harm. Even if that was only in passing (and most people who’ve been malicious will probably say they wanted you to hurt but not that much). Hurt is binary; either you do or you don’t. When you’re assessing how much damage was caused, it’s hard to consider how much of that was intended.
This is why we hide from the light after we’ve been burnt. Not all sunshine is fire. Not all brilliance stings. And yes, there is some healing that can only be done in the open, in the burning truth, in the raw vulnerability. We come to that when we come to it. And being shamed or hurried to that place doesn’t help.
People’s reactions are so layered. The journey back into the light is as winding & pitfall-ridden as a ride up into the mountains. You wonder why people are being nice to you when they weren’t before. You wonder why they can’t be nicer. You wonder what price you’ll pay this time (since it’s been seared into you that every drop of kindness costs something). You hurt with every scrap of kindness & you assess if it’s worth it at that price.
The sea soothes you & drowns your pain in the sound of its waves. But the mountains stand stoic & silent & make you have to listen to your suppressed cries, bringing it all back in echoes. You hear each wail, each gurgle, every gasp & sigh clearly, then distorted, then fading.
You notice that not all those voices are your own. You realise your healing causes the bleeding of others. You watch the boundaries between your pain & that of others dissolve & that’s scary. Can you hold all the screaming?
But the mountains are silent. And eventually, so will be the insides of you.ry; either you do or you don’t. When you’re assessing how much damage was caused, it’s hard to consider how much of that was intended.
