My story…
stuckbetweeniraqandahardplace:
I’m not entirely sure how to start this… not sure how anyone could begin a story like this. I have no idea how to explain my past to any of you. I haven’t even began to make sense of it all, myself. I’ve spent over eight years feeling embarrassed, and so guilt-ridden over my story… but I’ve finally realized: it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know I’m not the only child who has fallen victim to the cruelty of this world, and if there’s anything I hope my story can do, it’s to help the others like me understand… they are not to blame. I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m ready to claim myself. To no longer let my past dictate my future, and I’m ready to get the closure I deserve. I did everything I could to forget and repress these memories, so revisiting them in such detail is unbelievably hard. Even now, my hands are shaking, and my breathing is laboured. My stomach is in knots, and my body is numb. Please understand how difficult this is for me. My memory of what happened is sketchy, and my mind draws blanks… but I’m finally ready to share.
