I want to start by saying what an amazing community there is here on WordPress. You all need a virtual pat on the back for sharing your stories and your lives so openly and honestly.
It might seem so very obvious to say, but what you can find when you really and truly open your eyes is quite overwhelming. It’s a real therapy for me to read your stories, experiences and advice.
I’m very slowly learning to accept that what happened to me wasn’t all my fault, I’m learning that the shame of being sexually aroused as a child was just a natural reaction that I couldn’t have done anything about anyway. I didn’t know that at the time. All I knew was that I felt dirty, perverted and sick with myself.
It’s the middle of the week and it’s raining outside – it’s a typical summers day in the UK. I love watching the rain though, those pure tears from the sky falling to wash and cleanse everything down below.
I love the quietness that occurs when it rains when everything just seems to stop, I can close my eyes and listen to the rain and go far, far away to my safe place, just like I used to.
Nowadays as an adult I can also choose to open my eyes if I want and watch the rain with no fear of being grabbed around the throat and told not to dare open my eyes.
As I look out of the window, I can’t help but feel that a rainy day, sat on my own, seems like the perfect day to end it all and do away with all the pain, confusion and hurt.
It’s almost like no-one will notice you slipping away on a rainy day, everyone will be preoccupied waiting for the rain to stop falling so that they can continue with their own daily business and normal service can be resumed.
Rainy days are often thought of as depressing and sad, cold and lonely. But I love rainy days and I love that I can look out at them freely with no fear of repercussions anymore. They strip away the fear of dying for me and make the day very pure, simple and natural.
Just let the red rain splash you,
Let the rain fall on your skin,
I come to you, defenses down,
With the Trust of a Child