To be surrounded by people who have gone through what we are going through is one of the most beautiful things that could happen to people like us. Our experiences may be similar or different but with the same impact on varying degrees. Most of us find ourselves crying at nights, never wanting to get out of bed in the morning since we do not know how to begin life again after so many repeated patterns of destruction. It was like a never-ending cycle of pain and misery that never failed to make us feel helpless and hopeless. Some of us are lucky some of us not much.

 

Oftentimes I cried to the Lord, why? I am just a child then, what do I deserve to experience such a thing that would create a horrible impact in my life many years later? Why did you allow that to happen? Why me? Well, I am just asking those questions every time I realized that the things I am getting are the result of what I kept inside, these underlying feelings of shame, guilt, remorse, and revenge.

 

The consequences of hiding and the validation of being shameful and undeserving are too difficult to face. I cried many times over and I felt like there is no way out. The pain is crashing to the depths of the soul and hopelessness surrounds the spirit that once was filled with goodness. Getting out of the fit felt like being put to the grave many times over. Why does it have to be me?

 

The thought that the inevitable will not be long, facing all of this hiding from laws and from the people I once care is scary. The truth will set me free but before it does it will hurt me first and I have been hurting myself so long that it must have an end. The priest says love will make it easy, I hope so.

 

The days I hope I would not make it into the mornings should be gone. It is too much. Though my body is paying the toll I will have to set my spirit free. The rains of tears would never end but I know they were cleansing my soul. I will find a way out, I am determined and even if I don’t at least I knew I tried.

 

The will to go on was born out of the inherent desire to be good, to be loved and to love. It could never go wrong. Sometimes the pain is bigger than the hope that this will happen, but what else is there? When I can still wake up in the morning, it’s not over yet. I have to get up and write, do something I could leave behind in case the game will be over or at least something that could help one crying soul out there, someone who could be going through what I am going through.

 

When I am losing hope in facing the responsibilities of the day ahead and my small mind could not think of anything but leave. When the struggles would make me crawl in bed never wanting to see any more sunshine again and the only things left is the hope that it is over, it is a delight to think that I am not alone in the journey  because someone  out there says ”metoo.”