Mostly identified as unspoken, silence, in my opinion, is the most emphatic of languages.
Silence has been my coping mechanism for a lot of 2018 as the most challenging times arose and then simmered as time passed.
Silence is like binary code, it’s an action-led motion, emotion, and emphatic feeling. It’s tap into the psyche and an escape out of the noise. Silence digests and feeds, it troubleshoots and rewires.
As I began this year, I began hopefull and filled with life. I came back to Miami with nothing but good intentions and lessons learned to reinforce and fortify with habits. I was so ready to take on the world, as I saw it, feeling invincible after surviving the reinsertion of my childhood trauma and failing to speak to my father, in simple terms, for closure sake.
However, I made the mistake of latching onto too much too fast and too strong. I fell in love deeply for the first time. I fell for someone who began to love the idea of burying their misery beneath my admiration but when confronted with my affection ran away faster than I could open and close my eyes one last time.
See, the thing about growing up in an abusive household under both physical and emotional abuse is that the thing you grow up fearing the most in life is abandonment; even when it comes from your abuser. And that exact feeling, under centuries of dependent and exhaustive relationships, triggers deep depressive states filled with loneliness and unquenchable sadness. And thankfully, gladfully, and obviously, this exact feeling overcame me this year, especially in the Spring while I attempted to fight my demons to not lose everything I had worked so hard to achieve for the past 5 years; graduation.
I was confronted with learning how to put myself aside to make room for someone else’s love, affection, but also all of their bad habits and manipulative tendencies. I did this gladly and patiently but I also began fighting for them (us) too. Just like I learned to do when I was little; like I learned to scream to be heard over men and boys of my family and friends, like I learned to defend my mom from the wretched attacks that my father aimed at her spirit. I began to use one of my coping mechanisms to project love for others the way that I was taught to love and what love was; what it meant.
I have lived in silence from a lot of things this year because honestly, it all took me by surprise. I had no reaction and I’ve had nothing to say about my life and what I’ve suffered because I’ve had no energy to fight back for myself – I drained it all fighting for the wrong people at the wrong time and under the wrong circumstances.
This year I had to fight myself for change, for growth, for shutting doors that were mistakenly wide open. So that’s what I’ve been doing, fighting internally to live and wanting to keep living because sadly, the first alternatives that roll into my mind when attempting to fight against low defenses are to turn to very depressive and suicidal thoughts for reassurance and familiarity. Yet, as my beautiful soul sister and friend put it briefly and gracefully today; Khalas.
Khalas for now, to the redirecting and distracting away from distress.
It’s all come down like a hurricane this year, leading me to regretfully be unable to write one word down onto this canvas for months, and almost all of this year.
Writing about abuse is at the root of my understanding of my mental health issues and coping mechanisms. Yet, at the very core, digesting trauma almost always turns abrasive and relinquishing as I use my memory as my blindfold. Most things I can no longer remember until I write, see, dream, hear, paint, speak, and cry.
And that is what this season has been, a systematic binary driven silence. And that is how I am. That is how I’m doing. I’m suffering in silence like my daddy taught me because I’m still working on quitting my attachment to dependency on abuse to cope too. As I often use menace and anger to fight myself rather than talk to myself as the noise gets louder.
And I’m learning. In the distance, while I survive this season in silence.
As this year ends, I hope to gift myself the closure that those who have hurt me refuse to grant and I close my eyes every night wishing that these cycles of pain reverse into cycles of (pretty much anything) but these feelings that isolate my creativity and put a hold on my life.
I miss my friends, I miss my family, I miss Ecuador, I miss traveling, but most of all I miss myself – the girl who left Ecuador sure of herself and her plans for the world. I can’t seem to find her at sunrise or in the waves that carry the sunset. Tell her I love her. She deserves to know.