I didn't have the words

I don’t remember ever being innocent or pure. I remember how wrong and dirty and secretive it felt. I was 5 years old. But I didn’t talk about it. I was not supposed to talk about it and, really, I didn’t even have the words. I spent my whole life telling myself it wasn’t that bad…maybe I could even forget. And then I would try on the feelings of denial and pretend to be okay.

But it was that bad. It really was. Some nights it still is that bad. And I still can’t find the words. But I feel the words. I feel them physically in my body. Terrible things that I don’t understand. And then I wonder if they are really true. I asked the therapist that today. I asked her about the physical things that happen that have no explanation. I asked her if she believed they could happen. I find them to be distressing. I have a headache and I cannot sleep.